Gone Stiles Stilinski
by punkofpop
Summary: gone 1. adjective: no longer present; departed no longer in existence, dead, extinct "They're all just gone and now it's just me and I don't know how I'm supposed to just be okay with that." "You got me."
1. part 1 Reese's

p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="19682d48863311e4f7399e23f33ed66f"Bleach and latex. They're clean smelling but also pretty repulsive; that is unless you spend as much time in a hospital as I do. They start to smell more like your home than your actual house. Your clothes reek of the sanitary scent. It's in your hair and your skin. Eating a McDonald's cheeseburger from the dollar menu becomes the best-tasting thing on the planet from all the bland hospital food and vending machine snacks. Hospitals./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1f3dae0d0478cee112bb3e402e64736b" It bothered me at first, really, it did. Who likes being at hospitals? I suppose nurses and doctors, people who work in them. But, as a civilian, does anyone really like being in a hospital? Doubtful. Well, maybe those people who grew up in them or something. They're just uncomfortable and unless you're around for a wanted birth, hospitals usually aren't happy places to be. People are dying all over the place and getting diagnosed with cancer, HIV, Hepatitis C, Dementia. Hospitals are downright depressing but after awhile, that wears off and you just walk the halls like someone didn't just flatline in front of their dad or someone didn't just lose a baby. You're used to it./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="96cdcfb3251544436721b8e016e3a2a0" I've been coming here at least three times a month for the past five years. Lately, however, I've been here seven days a week. I know what that means. Everyone knows what that means. It's just a matter of time unless someone randomly comes up with a cure. Even then though, it'd be no help. It'd be crazy epensive and my dad can't afford it on what he makes. There could be a cure for this on the market tomorrow, and it wouldn't make a difference to my family./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="03ded4407dfd3364da82f429004593fb" Death, that's inevitable. It happens. It doesn't matter who you are or what you are. You will die. But the shitty part about that is that when you die, you leave people behind. You might only even leave one person, but that one person has to live the rest of their life without you. They have to fight the urge to call you when something happens because you were always that person they told things to. When death happens, that call goes to voicemail and if you're lucky, you'll hear their recorded voice but after awhile, you won't even have that because the phone will be disconnected. Death is the cruelest heartbreak./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="58cc12f598bcc8abfb1a0342b9894a69" That's depressing, right? Sitting here, most days, gives you plenty of time to think about these things. That's just what happens. The mind wanders. But, you know, maybe I just sound so morbid because I haven't eaten in hours and my blood sugar is too low. Before I start in on the other terrible things in life, I should go to a vending machine, lift my crushed spirits./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="03b49122d47ed4a52505243df236b7ec" I make the walk down the all white hallway until I reach the vending machine. It's stocked full with candy. It gets restocked on Saturdays. I have all the choices unlike yesterday when it was almost empty. I had to go to the Peds floor in order to just get a bag of pretzels. Today though, I stare blankly, looking at the choices but not really. My head is fogged and while I want candy, my mind doesn't want to focus on the names of the candy. It's a blur, like I'm in a trance./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f15bfd3319af33c2a644c4f5d5a7f2a7" "Uh, hey." An oddly familiar voice knocks me out of my trance and I turn to face him. "Candy stuck?" He asks./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2b444dc2a85bae89eedd3294bd0047bd" "Oh, uh, no." I shake my head quickly and turn back around before he can see the redness of my cheeks./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="cc9b2f8de1a640633a451aa3a3dfdc1f" It's Stiles Stilinski. He's an awkward, well, he em style="box-sizing: border-box;"kind of /emplaysem style="box-sizing: border-box;" /emlacrosse so I guess you can call him a jock but he doesn't really fit that label and he's not very good. em style="box-sizing: border-box;"He goes by Stiles/em. I think that says plenty. But he's really funny. Things just come to him and it works. Sarcasm might as well be his middle name. But Stiles Stilinski is the most attractive guy in the entire school. I mean, I don't even know what it is. He has a simple buzz cut and his eyes aren't blue like the winter sky. They're not a simple brown either but he isn't someone that has distinctive features that make him attractive. He's just one of those people that's attractive because he's him./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="236ffcb52dd2d02ae854838f203a95e5" But, I went to school with Stiles for five full years, this year only being year six despite my family moving just a few blocks away from his when I was six. That's when I moved here with my family. I don't remember much of the moving since I was so young but I remember being here and Stiles and Scott being nice. Oh yeah, Scott's his best friend. He's more of the jock type, just without the assholeness. Anyway, they were nice but I never actually became long lasting friends with them. We're not really enemies. I'm fine with Scott and well, I haven't talked to Stiles in a long time. I've been being homeschooled for three years to make life easier for my dad. This is actually my first year at Beacon Hills. I have most of my classes with Stiles which makes things pretty awkward but I have some with Scott and he's been really nice showing me around. And his girlfriend is really nice. While I was closer with Stiles, I was always fond of Scott./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3dfcd3831d29c073491e23853fc99368" With that being said though, I em style="box-sizing: border-box;"was/em pretty close with Stiles until my mom got sick. My dad is a deputy while Stiles's dad is the sheriff. So Stiles and me saw more of each other than just school. We'd go to the station after school together and hang out in his dad's office. I usually did my homework while Stiles just kind of messed around and pretended to be a sheriff himself. He's always been a dork. I started going home or to doctor's appointments with my mom so my dad wouldn't have to leave work. Of course, Sheriff Stilinksi was more than happy to allow my dad off. He gets it. With all that, it just made it hard to maintain any friendships even those that came as easy as the one I had with Stiles. Regardless, I should have tried harder and not, well, it shouldn't have gone the way it did. Now, it's not that I'm too proud to go back on anything, it's just, I don't think he cares, really. It's weird and complicated. He seems happy. No point in bringing up the past./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="845c135b09718c785ad179d85febae87" "Everything okay?" He asks, breaking the silence./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a1e5cb2f679ac755aa085c770a9b8a8c" "Oh, yeah." I nod as I face him, knowing it's rude not to./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="7241cd36917a99eb8951b360a985d354" "Your mom?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="09342990c878aebf48293747e845ca9d" I guess you don't just forget those things and I'm sure my dad and his dad talk since they're actually friends outside of work. It doesn't really come as a surprise he remembers my mom being sick. I don't think he knows all the details as I didn't with his until after she died. Some things you never forget and the death of Mrs. Stilinski is one of them even though we were ten. Nonetheless, sick is sick, especially when it's a parent. Of all people in this town, Stiles gets it./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="cce2d07d14589ef98265df5ffa9bd225" "Yeah." I nod feeling guilty and I don't even know why./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="72bd916e92cd610487c46d0542e2da79" "Is she okay?" He asks and gestures to move past me so he can get some candy./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="19eaa62555d42f13fc2972a937437727" "It's fine." I lie, not wanting to bother him with my issues. "You here for Lydia?" I switch it to him so he can't ask any more questions./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a4f64eeafa524338b080bea197e1f9f0" "How'd you know?" His adorable smile falls short just like mine did as he puts money into the machine./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="013c10d950e03c9a122963365e88a4c2" "Heard about what happened and I've seen your dad in and out of here all weekend, popping in to talk to my dad."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d03cb1b8162b6319fd1bb26ac5781434" "Right." He chuckles as he rubs the back of his neck. "She's gonna be fine." He presses some buttons and the Reese's start moving./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9207690365d7a723e8d4345f404fd560" "That's good." I show him a soft smile just as the candy gets stuck./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="b9fd48c6d06bdbab30d827fd63283e61" "Oh, come on." He huffs and shakes the machine./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ac38477976bbabb9bc278b74ef65a4f2" "That's not gonna make it fall down." I roll my eyes and move past him./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9913bdb12a3156cdd3140ef5ec898d06" "Well, if you're so smart, how do you expect to get it down?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="92dcf25bee4fbfc67442cc6b435b62b4" I put in a dollar and push the same buttons he did and two packs of Reese's fall. I turn and give a wide smile as he narrows his eyes at me, pursing his lips. He grabs the candy and hands one to me and takes the other for himself./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="20894883dcb0551cc7f219250092bd4d" "Okay but you're allergic to peanuts so that didn't solve the problem." His sarcasm flows with winning arrogance as he opens the candy. Before I can respond, there's a blood-curdling scream echoing through the halls. "Lydia?" Stiles looks in the direction of the scream before he starts moving. "I hope your mom's okay!" He yells at me before running down the hall./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="14f01ba254858551a6aa5a9eda3f430c" A scream like that, most people wouldn't have thought to think of anything else but getting to the person responsible for that scream. Especially when it comes to Stiles and Lydia. He's been pawning after her forever. All you have to do is live in Beacon Hills to see that Stiles is so head over heels in love with her, he would die for her and she doesn't even know his name. Some might say it's pathetic, but it's kind of sweet. I mean, his determination and dedication is a little creepy but he's a good person and if she told him to leave her alone, he would. He respects her unlike most of the guys. One of the up sides of not really having friends yet is that I notice everything around me./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="efe848d341764335977394faa0a6040d" But, after what happened to Stiles's mom, I think he puts in a little extra effort. After she died, I remember not long after, he was sitting in front of me in Mrs. Shcultz class and he just started hyperventilating. Sheriff Stilinski had to come to school and pick him up. It happened quite a bit actually. He didn't talk about it much to me but that might have been because that's when my mom starting showing symptoms. He did have Scott though. Scott always told me if Stiles was okay./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ecb7e5dfa53a16f9be8302818d7513e5" I walk back to my mom's room where my dad is sat next to her bed, her sleeping soundly for once. She hasn't had a good day in quite awhile. Most of the time, she only ever knows my dad. I'm either someone trying to kill her or I'm the nicest and youngest nurse she's ever seen. I like those days. I get to hear all the stories about how her and my dad met. She might be completely and literally losing her mind, but she still gives solid advice. Date a guy who chooses you, not settles. Don't settle because I'm lonely or because I'm afraid of the break. All these things are pretty obvious and most I've been hearing for a little while now, but I like it./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8db9b4c8c4f1cfd4789c1144a7e411dc" It's the days when she's solely convinced I'm putting something in her IV to kill her that rip my heart out. I have to sit outside for those days. They allowed me in the room the first few times it happened but then it started being more frequent and now I'm not allowed around her even when she calms down. It makes sense but it doesn't hurt any less. Understanding and being okay with it are two completely different things./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="6a34a5844405e51c07924e47c5f90437" "Get your candy?" My dad's groggy voice hits my ears as I toss him the Reese's./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="bb32bf976f5fa7c3493c49c36aba1e6f" "Yep."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="04a2a61125c541f861b1d120a7788163" "You're allergic to peanuts." He cocks his eyebrow at me with suspicion and opens the packaging./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5a67f71643eb22582836c3d30f1de62b" "Yep." I look to the floor taking a seat opposite him./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="79ae72b660240b21b4997d4025e677df" "Do I really have to ask in order for you to explain?" He questions as he takes a bite of the chocolate./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4a4cded9dc30651dbaa71d2a2f8f6567" I shake my head as a guilty smile splits my face. "Stiles got his candy stuck so I used my dollar to get his free." I admit with rolled eyes./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ef9587974f53bb36b7dce3852dbeb360" "Stiles, huh?" He chuckles to himself before looking to my mom and back to me. "Been awhile since you've said something about him."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ff3fd845041e1ee1c8c45413b5c1b127" "Do you really want to talk about boys, dad?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="11ccedceec9e5d0db14dc3e460eb2078" "Uh, no." He says quickly with a small laugh moving onto the other piece./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="eb88ccb6678b0a69d5463814f3320194" "Didn't think so." I widen my eyes and sarcasm flows in the words./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e06f09d2d2040aac916b8b1542693d1a" "Go get something else. I don't wanna sit here with you complaining you're hungry in five minutes." He warns as he leans back in his chair and digs another dollar from his pocket./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="6bee89b2ff2d4280c959a89d7898641c" "Yes, sir." My words are sarcastic as I get up from my chair and take the dollar./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4a42b171eec5a6e638a3dc3bd7015fc4" "Sorry to interrupt, O'Riley, need ya." Sheriff Stilinski walks into the room./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d7c3b9e8fdd28e6bdf620852763430d9" My dad looks back to my mom and then to me, as if asking permission to leave. I figured my dad would be getting pulled away. With Sheriff Stilinski being nice enough to allow my dad off as much as he can, that comes with the price of always being on call, like right now./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="6bb08f38f1b41852b2890db86ee03d37" They talk a few minutes but I don't pay attention since it's none of my business and I know it's about Lydia. It has to be based on the scream that came from her. But once they were done talking, I noticed the sheriff still standing in the door./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4a28fdf7d847f9d10275fe8d3a16bca1" "You gonna be alright here, Cam?" Sheriff looks to me and I nod quickly./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="163c09d0ecf8a95a21086c674e482e5b" "Lydia okay?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="b03589b7e7a8c5705dc931bad617e28d" "Well, uh, she's gone. We're going to start looking for her. Haven't seen her, have you?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a8c625f201a9c5c6bbbe6baf9cf3c5d0" "Nope. Last I heard was her screaming and Stiles running towards her room."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="b22213b6d8eb0d99fb4b49cdadba492a" Sheriff shakes his head as he looks to the ground. "Stiles." He sighs. "If you see her-"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1c66af883c0251fceea5cbc01206565a" "I'll call you or my dad, not Stiles or Scott." I reassure him, same as always./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="19e473adcb9dffa14f6eac9f254301f1" Being a cop's kid consists of knowing random information and being told "if you know anything, you have to tell me" all the time. Not to mention, you can't really get away with anything because everyone knows you're a cop's kid. Don't get me wrong, there are upsides to having a cop as a dad. Any guy that so much as even hints at anything sexual, all I have to do is say my dad's a cop and they leave me the alone. It's quite nice./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2064215ce979cfea3e2c1c35a370223b" However, this particular thing is a little different. I was always the good one compared to Scott and Stiles. I didn't get into much trouble. It was minor things and my sarcasm that got me into trouble. I obeyed most of the rules but Stiles and Scott liked to bend them, see just how far they could push them. So, I wouldn't say I was the taddler but if asked, I did kind of tell on them. It was only to protect my own ass and Scott and Stiles always stuck their noses in things they didn't need to put them in which could have gotten them hurt. So it was always, Sheriff and my dad first. Then I'd tell the deadly duo how much time they had before the dads showed. I always gave our dads an extra location or step so the boys would have more time to get away. It got us all out of trouble plenty of times./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c053a17b6a4c0ef8bc15ef8b7b33daa8" Sherriff doesn't move, however. He shakes his head and squints his eyes. "Or since your dad is okay with it, you can go with Stiles. Make sure he gets home." His expression of dread turns into a soft smile./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="7ed4ca4cd7f03f2282cab2bc9e89e9cd" I let out a shallow sigh and nod. "Yeah, I should probably leave anyway." I look over to my mom who's still sleeping before grabbing my bag from the floor./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="caf5dad68b80976ab904b7dbf9d4c9b4" Honestly, I don't want to sleep in hospital and with Lydia missing, my dad will more than likely be at the station all night. My only ride home would be Miss McCall but I'm pretty sure she's here all night tonight so that's out of the question. Stiles is kind of my only way home at this point./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c600da561edf771527a6269d67c394f0" I walk out of the room, following Sheriff. There's a small group of people down a second hallway. Stiles, my dad, Miss McCall, a nurse, and a few other officers from the station./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ba31ff6640638f6deead4d9c2b2cae8c" Nothing too bad ever really happens here. We have the occasional burglaries and break ins but people being attacked by...wolves and mountain lions? And then running away is, well, out of the ordinary. Actually, that's out of the ordinary anywhere unless it's somewhere with more wolves than food./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3ebd02732dc56e763e2e2fc5189a53b8" Wolves only attack if threatened or if they're starving. Mountain lion attacks are also super rare. You're more likely to drown in your bathtub. They avoid people and even when the very rare attack does happen, most people get the lion off easily and don't sustain major injury. Just seems a bit odd is all I'm saying./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="962b9a5c153695fd915c075c015db26b" "Stiles, Cam's going with you. Make sure you get home nice and safe." Sheriff says as we reach the group, Stiles looking worried and impatient./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c2ecd1744a270ba2b6e1ec854ffaf901" "Right, cool. Okay." He gives me a goofy grin and a thumbs up to which I smile and tug at the strap of my bag. "We're gonna go then. Come on." Stiles comes up to me and starts pushing me down the hall./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="b9e9141bebd9679461ee6fe33b2a1542" "Bye, dad!" I yell as he waves back. "Why are you pushing me?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="cbb66909b32f3ce470ea4c9b43c777c4" "Look, it's great you wanna make sure I don't go looking for Lydia, but it's fine." Stiles says in a rushed voice as he finally removes his hands from my shoulders./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f576a231b2e34cdf0615d04b9833d67f" "I know you're gonna look for her but I also know if I'm with you and you get busted, which you will, you'll be in less trouble."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d0ad06a01277db04f91c001539c96f4a" The thing is that that's painfully true. Our dads will think I just went with him to make sure he didn't get into too much trouble. I would talk him out of anything dangerous and illegal. We'd basically just be searching the woods and our dads have the same knowledge of wildlife that I do. They'll know it's safer for us both to be in the woods than just Stiles but they will catch three of us because I know Scott will be included. It's just logical for me to tag along. There's strength in numbers./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a5bbff022315ff02a7b34f9585183e24" "Thanks but you're going home. We got it handled."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8342a7fdd8b91159327a4b740bdc9627" "You don't want my help?" I ask as my heart sinks./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="7b1ff9433f0facbfd51bc279c0c24a7a" As I said, we haven't been friends in years but it still makes my heart drop. Maybe that's because Stiles really hasn't changed much. Most of what he says is super sarcastic or he's being a smart ass, both of which are adorable even though you kind of want to smack him. But, I would think that he still has this weird ten-year plan, so he'd need more help finding Lydia. What's the big deal if I help? Am I that bad to be around?/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="524279750e0765974ae95efbc674aa6c" "No!" Stiles quickly defends as the exit becomes closer. "No, it's not that. Honest." He shakes his head, keeping a fast pace. "It's just, you don't want to help, alright?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9b27b556e00a2a07bcd6ef738e96c610" "Why wouldn't I want to help?" I raise an eyebrow, trying to keep up with him./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9a01bae4cc11f3dbc8f09d338284b661" He doesn't answer at first. I didn't even think he heard me but he looks at me with guilty eyes and I knew he had. "Well, you're not friends with her."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2d0dc52570e769d4cfdba9d8f804e0c2" "Not friends with you either and I still helped with your candy." My voice is quiet as I watch my feet stride in line with his./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5c29feeb260ca4877c1ada7a008ab792" He just looks to me and back to the door, holding it open for me once we reach it. There's something weird about all this. Obviously, there's something fucking weird about it. If there were really some mountain lion roaming the streets, there would have been reports and my dad would have been picking me up from school and dropping me off every single day. I would basically be on house arrest until they caught it. But nothing. No one has ever reported it and suddenly, it's attacking. If I think that sounds weird, I know Stiles and Scott do, too./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3fa7849763852e2c0e33983617c177ce" "Really, Cam?" He narrows his eyes at me with a sigh. I guess I hit a nerve I didn't even know existed. It's hard to hit Stiles's nerves./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="cd242db517c69291a99c80f8c4a56052" "It's true..." My voice stays low as I keep walking with him, eyes plastered to moving pavement. "Do you know something?" I finally ask as we reach his jeep that had been passed down to him./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="adaee866c4576b9fef5b24f4880cb528" "What? Why would I know something? What would I know?" He asks quickly as he starts the engine./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="09acd6914b33ba6fdce78b00e249f6d7" "Just weird, I guess. Your dad's the sheriff." I shrug, not wanting to go on and on about my thoughts./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="317b72d94dc553ff7254dcc6d6f58734" He looks over to me before pulling out of the parking place. His face is wired with a thousand different emotions and I'm starting to question if he should even be allowed on the roads. Actually, should he? I've never been a car with him driving before. Is he a good driver? Probably. Stiles is fun to pick on but he's actually quite smart and good at most everything. He's just awkward./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="b84edea2221f25febd3000cc5a0a26d8" "Okay, if I tell you why you can't go, will not ask any more questions?" He sighs and caves much quicker than I expected./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="06bc42d02f8b7902513f5db3add45862" "As long as you take me home and it's not something I need to tell our dads about." I pull my legs to my chest and wrap my arms around my knees./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5c6575a7705edbce3575a08e8a05ceb1" "You can't come because it's dangerous. You can get hurt." His voice becomes defeated as his face completely twists./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="909a58716bd0877fd56eea3ec35fc5d2" "But I'll be with you...how is that dangerous?" I look at him with pursed lips and a sunken heart but his eyes bulge from his head as he looks between me and the road a few times before gaining an arrogant smirk./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c56b624f0257077b7f8901a9c06af6f8" It's true. For starters, Stiles was never one to do em style="box-sizing: border-box;"span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold;"anything/span/em that would get anyone hurt. He caused trouble, don't get me wrong, but none of it was ever harmful. He's mostly just nosey so I guess I shouldn't say it wasn't harmful because whenever he'd start butting into his dad's work, he put himself in harm's way. I don't think he does that intentionally, I just think he's curious and wants to solve cases. He's a mini Sheriff Stilinski. But, even if something he did put people in danger, he'd take a bullet for any of them without even thinking. Stiles was always the most selfless person I'd ever come in contact with. We've only said a few hellos when passing in the past few years but I know he would still take whatever danger is lurking so I wouldn't get hurt. That's just who Stiles is./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="163bd1accb64f288fa2dbdcf3b8bb385" "It's, uh, complicated." The smirk doesn't leave his face which helps ease a little bit of the tension from the blue jeep./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4e45ebef5cc8aba6a5a0c361e6365dd6" "You always wanted to be Batman." I make the taunting remark in hopes that will get him to give more detail./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0cd310d56d10f62bd4f78b0d5f97c964" He looks over to me and wiggles his eyebrows. It's the lightest the air has been between us in so long. It's almost like nothing happened. "Think I could be Batman?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a8894a6b148d61dd9eb82a3ad50a407c" "You're already a Batman." I rest my chin on my knees and stair through the windshield./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="80fd348b021b89cb6f4a1bf2ade8cd05" When we were younger, Stiles had this weird Batman obsession. We had a constant Spider-man VS Batman argument. But, anyway, he always wanted to be him because Batman was the one superhero that didn't need any powers to make him unstoppable. He was took on some of the most badass villains just being human because of his shear determination on finding the killer of his parents and wanting to stop violence. I guess, Stiles doesn't see that he really is like Batman. I can kind of get it. Stiles is kind of in the background to Scott. It's always been that way but Scott was always following the plan em style="box-sizing: border-box;"Stiles/em had. I don't know much about them now of course, but even if all of that has changed, that won't change how I view the two of them. Stiles is Batman while Scott is Robin./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5e4535fb0164739445368092200e0a24" A really weird, almost gurgling noise comes from Stiles and I know it's the sound of him wanting to tell me. "Ahh, okay." He shakes his head and bares his teeth. "There's some stuff going on that I don't know everything about so it's dangerous. It's more than what you think, okay?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f7041f74ab6dd3291dee28a8efdc56ce" "Like what?/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8df371c133f75e1e472d373839b19c62" "Like, like I'll tell you when I can."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="83897c390a1d663291435d718dfaa409" "Promise?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="94ed039466a549bd34371cbfc4adb7fb" "Fine. Okay? Yes. Promise, now I'm taking you home."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="325e48320e9b48e220968643aad90bd5" I was gonna respond but the closing of my throat forbid it. I scrummage though my bag and I left my water at the hospital. One of the few things I actually need in this bag, and I don't have it. This is the story of my life. I start coughing and keep searching, hoping that it'll magically appear if I keep checking the same pocket./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9d255cb7b4249c1657b5b6cb6819935a" "Are you okay?" I feel Stiles look at me as I continue to cough and nod in response. "Water in my bag." He says casually, returning his eyes to the road./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="839d069faa568919267db0fb08213fc7" I reach in the backseat and grab his bag that has a lacrosse stick attached. We may not be friends and Stiles might just ride the bench, but I never miss a game. Not one. I don't even miss a practice. Okay, I might photograph for the school and the town but I still wouldn't miss the games. I pull out a long, red, waterbottle with a Beacon Hills lacrosse logo on it and waterfall it into my mouth, easing the tension and burning that had come on./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="01d906ffa059bc8a815a99d78b309597" "Thanks." I mumble as my cheeks flush crimson red with embarrassment./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5cffdffc5d65b8efe02c27abc0fc6cf4" "Yeah, of course. Everything okay?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="280b93e3a0994077ab282f74b73061b3" "Yeah." I nod as I hold the waterbottle, knowing I'm going to keep needing it. "Just allergies."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ad346d3d284ccf77490a2302ca52947f" "Kind of sound like Scott when his asthma starts acting up."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="6bce825b640430273044f7291e49f257" "Because the next thing I need is asthma." I let out a soft laugh knowing it's not breathing related. "Why are we at Scott's?" I take notice in the surroundings again, realizing we're a few streets off from mine./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="dc4afad60d4493e1fc8de612d4fc917a" "Scott's on the way." Just as Stiles finishes his sentence, Scott comes trotting out of his house and up to the jeep./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="99b04afdb32eaa1f55326afff5c005fc" His eyes widen with surprise as he sees me in the passenger seat. "Hey, Cam."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="160d57ebe303209a22c516c4b9037383" "Hey, Scott." I smile small as I open the door./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ceb7210ea927250836260ad9899c0ef0" I move forward and Scott gets in the back. He looks odd. Scott never looks odd. Of course, he never looks all put together either but he just, I don't know. It's like he's examing the air around him and I'm the only one unaware of why. Stiles looks to him in the rear view mirror and nothing is said. It was like Stiles just had to give him a look to ask a question and Scott could tell him telepathically. They've always been that way but now that we're older, it's kind of creepy, especially because their looks aren't cocky or smiley but serious and on edge held with suspicion./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4b12fac9e363390db078c7d3bb37a6df" "How've you been, Cam?" Scott asks as he leans between mine and Stiles's seats./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5b14ae0cdf0e4600b0b27d41e563ef2b" "Uh, good. You?" I look over to him as I take another drink./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="6289d7a6879b28a5e9ec58abc68f9eb1" "Good." He nods but the air feels like a cliffhanger. As if there was something more and he was waiting for me to say it but I don't know what I'm supposed to say or do to fill in the blanks. "Have you been sick lately?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8153a35dfa354ed6155559ea877d639f" "Um...just allergies...why?" I furrow my eyebrows and look to Stiles wondering about the missing piece of this puzzle./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ebc782286d66582f05c8531c642833fb" "Just something going around. Heard it's pretty bad."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a377e05ed1168206ba3c04d6f8185131" "Should I ask your mom about a flu shot when I go in tomorrow?" I raise an eyebrow with suspicion of his lie./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="07220566a4da370e23467a4ce469d33d" "Oh no!" He quickly defends. "It's nothing like that. It'll pass, ya know? Don't worry about it."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1a9e363a0d25bc04e2b2ba204f5ee062" "Yeah, you know. We just don't wanna catch it with the game coming up." Stiles adds in./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="29095dcf8667e0babf18c87b29727baf" "You just spent the entire weekend at the hospital which, despite its sanitary smell, is full of germs..."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="b08b36035af3deba53831a2bb3985302" "Yeah but you know, breathing problems. Scott over here can't even take a cold." Stiles jokes and Scott gives him an annoyed look which makes me laugh./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="078eb87983c45249b53899efefdfb5a9" "Whatever. Puberty made you two weird."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c2084e449c82b8b07f91c842bea7f129" Just as I finish my sentence, there's a knock on my window which makes the three of us jump and yell. It's Allison, waiting for me to roll down the window. Does she know what's going on? How many people know whatever is so dangerous besides me? The cops can't know. My dad would be watching me like a hawk. No one else at school seems to be acting weird and it's second semester. Everyone seems normal, well, besides Matt. He's a creepy photographer. I mean, he'll photograph the lacrosse games while sitting on the bench and he's not doing it for anyone but himself. Like, he's not not on yearbook or the paper or anything. Photography is a hobby, but Matt puts a different meaning to it. I don't think I've seen the kid without the camera glued to his neck. He's just plain creepy. Does he know what's going on? Is he involved?/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="6261edfaa9375762e8ead9efef0b93bb" "Hey, Cam." Allison says with a smile as I roll my window down. "Hey, guys."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2fe623f7f2be7309a824a7d513ec93ab" "Allison, what are you doing here?" Scott asks from the backseat and suddenly I feel like I'm in the middle of some seriously awkward bullshit./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f6877621832bb16945b7652e8cfc93b0" "I'm coming with you guys." She says as if Scott should have just known that./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a21ecbfe2316eb1632434b3b10338ebc" "Hey, why does Allison get to come but I don't?" I turn to Stiles with narrowed eyes and raised brows. Someone had to tell her about Lydia./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4b2dfb12eec570861ecf55d22834f0b5" "Because it's dangerous!"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="7496843eca089b3e68a0c5f9b18850f9" "But not too dangerous for Allison?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="33cba3be398aeb58a3ecc3130ffc6671" I have nothing against Allison. I probably talk to her the most actually. We have classes together and Scott introduced me to her. If Scott likes her, that's pretty much all I need really. My whole point is that this situation is either dangerous or it's not. If it's dangerous for me, then it should be too dangerous for Allison. Really, Stiles doesn't know me anymore and I might be some mass murderer. He doesn't know for sure./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0bb7b22383917a916941a16be6522095" "YES!" Stiles yells in frustration. "Please, we really gotta find Lydia before something happens."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="eed50cd18211cef682199901eca93186" I get out and allow Allison in the backseat with Scott. "I'm gonna find out what you're up to." I look back to Stiles as we set off to my house./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d65ef871020c862731c7b4a5dbd7b8ce" "No, because you're gonna pretend none of this happened."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="bd1664b82fd52928972916f8b3c8f9fd" "Sure." I look out the window and take a drink from his water./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="b5dd1b60cb752f1d5896adade5193169" "Maybe Stiles is right. You shouldn't get involved." Scott pipes in./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="952e346c6a8deb819b84a5e4f8b5d16c" "Maybe you two shouldn't be getting involved."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c1ebe9150b2fa739b89f130917f93f2e" "Probably not but we already are."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="dc65157d27578aff157506a6f431d74e" "Isn't that hypocritical? You guys get to be involved and no offense, of course, but Allison is involved and Lydia is involved who knows who else. But I can't be."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="77c5a655a05369f2ce0ff31eaa74690c" "Yes, okay? It makes all hypocrites, but I'd rather be a hypocrite than deal with you getting hurt because we let you in the middle of this. So just, we'll tell you when we can." Stiles cuts in barely letting me finish my statement./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e2cc26a47df35471e9360994183db4f1" His words cut a silence through the jeep. As I said, Stiles doesn't like putting people in danger and for some reason, I'm still on that list. But, I don't really care. If Stiles can put himself in a dangerous situation then so can I. I know now. I know enough to know it's something Stiles and Scott need to get out of. Stiles isn't the only one that can take after his dad./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="02c4638636d0e0758b96954f682f6808" "See you at school." Stiles says as he leans over me and opens the door just as he pulls to the curb in front of my house./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="327102b2ab5f147ddbdd31a2e4ddbbb0" "Bye." I roll my eyes, grabbing my bag from the floor of the jeep before getting out and shutting the rickety door. I walk over to Stiles's side as his head goes back with rolled eyes before rolling down the window. "Just be careful." I say through gritted teeth. "If something happens," I let out a sigh. "Call my dad."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="b6a08f04ee9ebc13d421df7cf0b39106" I receive a nod before he rolls up his window giving me the cue to walk into my house. Of course, the jeep doesn't pull away from my curb until I'm inside./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="83d79a5f93df1087a8c5ec0f80ca588a" There's always been this thing where if we don't want to get in trouble, mostly Stiles, we just call the other person's dad. Sheriff always gave me a lecture and I never did whatever got me into trouble in the first place ever again. Like I was playing with Stiles's lacrosse stick once and broke a window. Stiles sucks, but I might be the worst player ever. I haven't tried since. My dad would have chewed me out for that window but Sheriff just made me do some yard work for him while he paid his neighbor for the window./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="b986779a110dfbbe968ce43eed6c813e" When Stiles would get into trouble which was usually more than just a broken window, he'd call my dad because my dad could get him out of it and it was better than dealing his dad. His dad could get mean with him because of what was going on with his mom. I didn't get it then because I was young and my mom and dad were healthy but now I get it. I would have wanted to kill Stiles, too./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="19edc0cdbbf56be18acbc6fd8d891b0c" I look around my house and it's silent. It's usually silent now. I didn't like it at first. As I said, nothing too terrible really happens in Beacon Hills but it didn't change the eeriness of being home alone in the dark. My dad didn't like it either. I mean, he didn't like leaving me home but he didn't really want me at the hospital constantly either. It was a lose lose situation. Him and Sheriff are friends so he wanted me to stay at the Stilinski's at first but I quickly turned that down and put on a brave face. I told my dad I liked Stiles and that got him to drop that idea faster than it came. This is life now though. Silent and white./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="84a25f9402e59bd8a3489cd857c4ed86" The silence isn't always bad, however. It gives me plenty of time to get homework done and stuff for the school and even my own investigation. I walk into my dad's office and turn on the light, setting down the Beacon Hills water bottle I forgot to give back. I sit down at his desk and turn on his computer. My dad thinks I don't know how to get into his computer. What he doesn't know can't hurt him. I grab my flash drive from my bag, plug it in, and within a few seconds, the computer is unlocked and I have access to all of his files. Going through digital files is way quicker than the paper files. Those can wait. Tonight, I'm gonna try and figure out what Thing 1 and Thing 2 are hiding./p 


	2. part 2 brisk lemonade

p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="550e3db3fcdfbc19e5cd1cb0397f14b4"The door from downstairs shuts, immediately waking me up. My neck is sore as I pull my head from my dad's desk. I fell asleep trying to find information on those idiots. Shit. Shit. Shit. I gotta get my shit and go. I yank my flash drive from the computer and shut it down as fast as I can. I grab my bag and the water bottle, running to my room and shutting the door quietly just as I hear my dad's steps making their way down the hall. I throw the things to the floor and hop into bed, yanking my blankets over me so he doesn't know I'm still in my clothes./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="575ef7dd8aebc23f86f52b57bfe72730" Silence. More silence. He's stopped moving. Shit. I left the door open. How could I have been so stupid?/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="385f9c9e53014ca9f029ddbbfed25e57" "Cambridge." His voice comes into my room but I stay still and watch his shadow on my wall that's being cast from the hall light. "Cam, wake up." My dad's voice is different and I turn to face him as he steps closer./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ce7d6e1f1baf701feb69ca20edf03a3f" "Mom?" I croak and he just stares at me. It's the same stare he gave me when she was diagnosed. Absent./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0451e6dfe04aa1acc7c913f5551bdbbb" "I'll meet you in the car." He says as he turns around and walks out, still in his uniform. I swear that's the only thing I see him nowadays./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9d58153a57e91008c154fadf53537067" I get out of bed and change into sweats. My dad never wakes me with my mom unless it's really bad. It's only happened twice. Now this being the third time. The first was when she crashed the car because she thought she was somewhere else. The second was when she had to be admitted because she woke up in a fit, not recognizing my dad. And now this. I don't know what it is but with school in the morning and my dad wanting me at the hospital, I know it's bad, worse than before./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="62a55cc7d870ceeeb200fb2df6e28d3c" Once I'm dressed, I put fresh clothes in my bag and sling it over my shoulder and grab the water bottle from the floor. I'mg going to school tomorrow. I'll be late but I know I'll go. I can't do anything in the hospital. At least at school, there are distractions. I'm not sitting and watching my mom deteriorate in front of me. I'm quite fond of high school because of that and I wish my dad had just kept me in school. Would have kept me from seeing a lot of things and feeling useless. But it's not his fault. He does what he thinks is best. He didn't have a handbook for this stuff./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="09614ef4fec10f87994b3c31459b6a62" The ride to the hospital is pretty quiet. My dad has the station set to a classic rock station but it was barely audible from the low volume. I wish he'd turn it up or say something. I have to deal with the silence at home and the silence of the hospital. I really don't want to deal with it I a car./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a68dde4ab1b91d29093eaf8a293e3693" I go for my bag and start untwisting my headphones and plug them into my phone, noticing a text from Stiles. My dad put his number in my phone just in case something happened and I needed it. It's kind of an emergency contact thing. All Stiles has to say that if my dad asks, he dropped me off and went home. Did he think I was gonna say anything else? I don't have much reason to./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="03f9c08543ab79b0fc0d4ce843c6aeb1" "You and Stiles do anything when you two left?" My dad looks over and now I see why I got the text. All these years and my dad has to double check or maybe he's trying to distract himself. Who knows anymore./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1a8223dde6bd261af05ad1cc60125062" "Nope. He dropped me off and went home." I ramble the line and stare out the window, watching the street lights./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a1e8078dec70e07591d2a4e612057a8d" "Thought you two might reconnect or something."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3267c41dd05a613059d363d9ddb4149e" "Dad," I let out a sigh and look to him. "Is this your attempt to distract yourself from what happened? Or from not telling me what happened? Or are you really trying to set me up with your boss slash best friend's son?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e2274617feea90386e5853d637734f0e" The snippy response wasn't necessary but I don't want to talk about Stiles. I never want to talk about him. My dad brings him up every so often. Ya know, Sheriff talking about whatever shit Stiles has gotten himself into or him playing lacrosse. I know Sheriff is really happy about that. But I hear about it from my dad and I know it's because my dad looks at Stiles like the son he never had. But, we aren't friends and it's one hell of a sore spot for me. I'm trying to be okay with the inevitable death of my mom but this stuff, this stuff she would get and my dad just doesn't./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="200d9c4a6220dcc5618117455c6709cb" "Dad, I'm sorry. I just, it's complicated with him and I don't want to talk about it. I just want to know about Mom." I play with mouth piece of the waterbottle without looking to him./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9adb5191ebdfad8c369ea216392eb4ca" "Alright." He sighs, keeping his eyes on the road. "Stroke." The word falls from his mouth and I almost didn't hear him./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="49a192d2220f8672e27afbb0c3bf5042" "How bad?" I ask, not really wanting to know./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="fd0e37b9a7be0ffd6afb1c9236b762fe" "If you want to skip tomorrow, I'll let you."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ca771d68ba3d495a64922720381db7be" "She's gonna die, isn't she?" I look back to him and I can see the tears burning behind his eyes./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="08e426ae033eb552d997ef7eabf6abca" "We knew it was a matter of time."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="39015c601dc07af159b91915f5ad8d57" "Yeah, but, that time is now, isn't it?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="cc2da7c569c2546c4d09581f6ecba066" "Probably, yeah."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="11ba6b9fef050a9d6b7bf7c6f006eecd" I can tell he wants to look at me and comfort me like a dad should but he can't find it in him. My dad, oh my dad has always been headstrong. He can handle his own without a problem. Things don't get to him. He takes them and brushes them off and hands them right back to the universe as if it didn't just fuck him over but then there's my mom and me. It's like we change that. He cares because we're his family. We've all he's got and we mean everything to him. I remember a 'fight' my mom and dad were having once when my mom thought it was a different time period. She wanted my dad to quit his job at the station because she was afraid he would be killed on the job. It makes sense but my dad fought back with being a cop was the one thing he always wanted to do and now that he has her, being a cop and doing his duty to serve and protect, is the best way he can ensure her safety because he didn't know what he would do if she died. I'd never heard him cry before that night. His biggest fear just came true and there's nothing he can do about it./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="198977a35eda903a72d404553072f083" We reach the hospital, allowing the rest of the car ride to be silence. Thre was nothing left to say. My mom was going to be dead soon unless a miracle happened. I follow my dad up to her room where she's hooked up to a bunch of machines and a tube is down her throat to help her breathe. I thought seeing her out of her mind was bad but this is worse, so much worse./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f31bbee345b083ff51aca6859b1d6ebe" "She, uh, can't breathe on her own." My dad takes a seat next to her and holds her hand./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="bc3e14cc6e5ec5aeef2c9620a637dba5" "What, um, do you have to pull treatment or is it up to the doctors?" I ask slowly as I grab a chair and sit on the other side of my mom./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8d550c31002f67e48f1a9f0bcc2b3232" "Me. There um," His words falter and his hands shake. "They can't find any brain activity."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e0c117befe46aee46593a6c2c47b46a4" "Forty-eight hours." I mumble the phrase as I look to the bed with my heart wanting to be ripped from my chest because that would be less painful./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="cd633f87886b5d6c10e5be91040fd3aa" "That's right." He nods and the room falls silent./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ea686dc24b2afcc2d30be2d76bfbb914" Forty-eight hours. That's what my mom said on the days she was lucid. If something ever happened and she ended up hooked up to a bunch of machines and there was no chance she would get better, give her forty-eight hours just in case a miracle happens but after that, pull treatment and donate her organs./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e85f63e5b1488e6d5fdf93cb653c6576" Sure, I believe in miracles. I think they happen. There have been things that happened that people can't explain. They happen and that's where my last bit of hope is laying. Of course, I'm not stupid, a little naïve when it comes to certain things, but I know the odds of her coming out of this. Even if she does, she'll still have Dementia, dementia with Lewy bodies to be specific. She'll still have hallucinations, her brain with still be shrinking, her personality will continue to deteriorate. A miracle can happen to get her out of this state but she'll just be in another one that'll lead us down this exact same road within the next few months, max./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="aa6ac3a21f1a2b80202c3bda80191666" A few hours passed and my dad's snoring in the chair, his hand still locked with my mom's. I've been drifting in and out of sleep, checking the time. It's weird knowing that there's a time your parent is going to die. Like an exact time. It's not comforting./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="18b48c8b1fd149a927ecde4270c531dd" "Are you still awake?" Miss McCall asks as she quietly enters the room./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a4a0f85501c3ac75c94ff7e8a208566f" "Yeah." I look down, not wanting to face her./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3075a9ec679ee9e33057f52e0533cc4e" "Can't sleep?" I shake my head before looking back to her. She comes closer and kneels beside my chair. "You know, you don't have to stay here. You can go home. You can stay at my house with Scott if you don't want to be alone." Her eyebrows are furrowed and it warms my aching heart. She's so caring without even needing to be. Miss McCall does a good job of being everyone's mom./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5738bd76694384bd031a28ff6f05cfb0" "Thanks, but it's okay." I try and smile but my mouth can't seem to muster the strength./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c996add19a21fb794f0ca3645f954a80" "Come on. The sheriff is about to leave and I'm sure he can at least take you home. You need to get some sleep. I will come and pick you up, bring you back here tomorrow if I have to." I look to my dad and he doesn't look like he'll be waking up anytime soon. "I'll let your dad know, okay?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="deeea5c6ee0e6dbc8ee31714ace90996" "If something-"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0158cd804eb080837a1ff8d1101cc2a9" "I will call you. I promise."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d373e4e4d6fb21a2c679e7daa83dd270" "Okay." I nod and grab my bag from the floor, allowing my eyes to fall on my mom for a few more seconds before I follow Miss McCall from the room./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8756d996a79a80f716716ccd082b02ed" Sheriff Stilinski is standing by the desk, clearly waiting and ready to go home. Miss McCall ushers me to him and he greets me with a soft smile. "Coming along for the ride?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c7ab8bf8c6135d133f4f6fbc8211b180" "Yeah." I chuckle the best I can as he puts a hand on my shoulder. "Thanks, Miss McCall." I nod at her before I follow the sheriff to his car./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1b4beb1da9f407b72ae1b50f23d8d677" He opens the passenger door for me and allows me in. After all these years, it's still a little weird to sit in a cop car. Although, I can say, the front seat is way more comfortable than the back. You don't feel guilty up here./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="23b256d257ac972adf26e68b7cfccee7" "You okay with camping out in the living room?" He asks as he starts driving./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="7490c28fee7dbc83df4bd4839f4480a7" "You're not letting me go home, are you?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="920c313fe15269d72fe8c63e3a660ef8" "Uh, no." He says shorlty. "I wished I'd had have been there properly for Stiles so you don't get to go home and be alone and I promised your dad I'd make sure you weren't there all night."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="70f881cce81fc9412832220a3f0b683b" "Why'd he even wake me then?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0ff5c72244a05bf377228de6923766e8" "He knew you'd pitch a fit if he hadn't. He didn't feel right about it."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ea046e36abada4940091ec80e48add3d" "Well, no offense, Sheriff and thanks for the offer, but I, um, just don't think it's right for me to stay at your house." I look out the window as we grow closer to the residential streets./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="60b0bc07c2de9408769c45f52685fee7" "Is it because of Stiles?" He asks and the confusion becomes evident./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8982db58246a607eb8bc5f5c687baccb" "We're not friends, Sheriff. It'd be weird."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="bfcbe8ba920ee2b59da1b60a72799a23" I appreciate the offer. I know it's more than just a security for my dad. Sheriff Stilinski genuinely wants me to be okay and he thinks being at his house is going to make me as okay as I'm going to get. He knows being alone isn't going to do me or anyone else any favors. He's been through this and he watched Stiles go through it. But, while I know Stiles won't be mean or anything even remotely close to it, I will still feel unwelcome. Stiles could walk in, offer me food and to watch Star Wars with him and I'd still feel like I was intruding. That's just how it is. Me, wanting to go and find Lydia with him and Scott is different than staying at his house. I still wouldn't feel welcomed but at least Scott would be there and we'd be doing something, not locked in a house. Stiles should be asleep but I'd have to face him in the morning for school. It's just not something I want to deal with or even can deal with right now./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="20f1c5e070c2a5c49a6a809cdb86387f" A soft sigh comes from the driver side. "Since when do you care what span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold;"Stiles/span thinks?" I feel his eyes fall on me and I know I've lost./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="64b7998933adf49f48c5c9acf5ddb619" "I-I don't." I mumble through gritted teeth. "It's-okay. Fine." I look out of my window and watch as we enter the neighborhood that holds our houses./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4f40aa313e8d42a7c54c8f2b9cd8aa2b" We reach the Stilisnki home and I follow Sheriff inside. It's warm. I remember coming over and staying with Stiles and Scott after Mrs. Stilinski died. The house was frigid, cold. The home had, well, it felt like home. Lived in, full of love and joy. It was happy and warm but when she died, she took that warmth with her and left Sheriff and Stiles with this emptiness that allowed the house to become dispiriting. That's how I remember it but it's not like that anymore. I haven't been inside in three years. It feels like home again. The furniture is still arranged the same way and pictures are around the home, the walls are the same shade. It's like they say I guess, time heals all wounds. At least that's what it seems./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8d0785819d666d20e6e2da43da6a3e35" "The bathroom is right down the hall and you can help yourself to whatever's in the kitchen." Sheriff says as we walk into the living room./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ae2edc1cb5de4f09804d27dfaf47d468" "Thanks." I nod with a soft smile and place my bag on the couch before Sheriff leaves the room./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="53da21a4093d9608082cc5ffe05adcf6" It's a little weird even being here but staying on the couch is that much weirder. When I stayed here, I always stayed in Stiles's room. Stiles took the floor and gave me the bed. Of course, his parents were constantly coming in and having to tell us to go to bed because neither of us knows how to shut up. I'd deny it if anyone ever asks but I would go back to that, have those days back. Take back everything or at the very least, really cherish them. Something. I think I'm just, losing someone makes you realize a lot of things, makes you wish you could go back in time and change things and appreciate things more./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="50bc512ebd29022e26ee059ba0e182ba" "Stiles is asleep but I'll be up awhile so if you need anything, I'll be down the hall." Sheriff says as he hands me some blankets and a pillow./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d0a585465200337534411dd24273be40" "I'll be okay but thank you." I take the bedding from him and place everything perfectly on the couch./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d9c444df665de37719676e075ddd6ac9" "I'll see you in the morning. Your dad said to let you sleep and you can just go in late if you still want to go to school."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="06b56d3b257b95104aa557f9e5687d4e" "Thank you." I hang my head as Sheriff starts to leave again. "Really, thanks for everything." I bite the inside of my cheek as tears start to burn behind my eyes. He nods with a side smile and leaves me to myself./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="222a478c384b491a5addcef85cd1c8ec" I sniffle a few times and wipe the few tears that have managed to leak from my eyes. She isn't dead yet. I still have almost forty-eight hours. Forty-eight hours. Here's hoping./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4e2a6f6a342084917d9a0cb36d570c13" I remove my shoes and get comfortable on the old couch I've had so many memories on. Movie nights, video games, the floor is lava, forts. So many memories and laughs. What a shame to have thrown them all away. The blankets and pillow smell like Stiles and it's honestly making me feel worse and also at home. I don't quite understand how something can make you feel horrible while feeling comfortable. It doesn't make any sense and here I lay, with contradicting feelings./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="532201d404e57d0ddd72f1aae298f21e" My mind takes ages to fall silent. It keeps replaying every argument I've had with my mom. Every single time I told her I hated her because I was mad. Every time I told her I wanted to move far away so I wouldn't be around. All those times she yelled at me and grounded me for helping Stiles get into the station's offices without permission. I was young and stupid and just wanted to have fun. She's my mom and just wanted me to be safe, reach the best version of myself, do what's best for me. I was young and stupid but I feel like a shitty daughter and the worst part is that I can apologize all I want but that doesn't take anything back and she won't hear me anyway. She's already brain dead./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="89319b30f4a44699b663605fee4a5e45" I don't know how long my head went on like that until my body just shut off from pure exhaustion. Needless to say, I didn't exactly sleep well. I wake up with the sun seeping through the bottoms of the curtains in front of me. There's a note under a can of Brisk lemonade iced tea. on the table in front of me. Barely even being awake and I know. I sit up and move the can, grabbing the note as my feet become planted on the floor./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="df84f1c9a2271e9ecdd74fc38f3c1e1f" "Ice in the fridge. Just use the water bottle you took yesterday. – Stiles."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2731716d7e871f50d4a338b84056021d" I chuckle as I put the note back down. There was a summer where I think this was the only thing I drank. I did so many chores in order to afford going to the gas station and picking up at least five of these a day. Stiles always made fun of me. He told me I'd eventually turn into a lemon. Loser. But, it's still my favorite drink and I guess Stiles remembers that./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a15b89c197e3f93070774972c297ef9b" I grab my phone that's almost dead and see the time. If I get dressed now, I'll make it my chemistry class a few mintes late. I don't want to stay here. I don't want to go home. I don't want to go to the hospital. Mr. Harris's class is it, unfortunately./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="aa7b8d130a9a6787d3b19dfe5204fd3b" "Good morning, Sheriff." My voice is groggy as I enter the kitchen where Sheriff Stilinski is looking through some paperwork./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ae9b59c4f3e1c096d936c8b289503063" "Good morning, Cam. How'd you sleep?" He puts his papers down and looks to me./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="efd182cd8112cb4f3ad0384315b4c41b" "Good, thanks." I nod and go to the freezer, water bottle in hand./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4e962503aee17dee8937dfb4e8b6df7c" "Stiles said you might want your tea." He smirks as he gets up from the table./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c5f8a04cd2a0c2783130f29fa71389e5" I huff trying to suppress my smile as I put ice cubes into the water bottle. "Yeah, guess I owe him a thank you."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="632803cb9acfdf3ae8890549bfa42878" "Well, you are welcome to stay here tonight again."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="01b9f10e92e59e3832df7b15a1f08e02" "I think," I pause and swallow, realizing I'm reaching close to only having thirty-six hours left. "I'm just gonna stay at the hospital tonight."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c3add1bb491318e16dc7a98625f787b2" "Alright." He nods and I can tell he won't push for anything else for right now./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d36ffbcb59d81755d3e11f13add7b9dd" Stiles was there when Mrs. Stilinsi died and it was traumatizing for Stiles, but it's probably a good thing. He got to spend the last few minutes with his mom. Yeah, she died literally in front of him but he got to say goodbye. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="da9020aeb88f608a1a25b3c3a7aa893c" "I'm gonna get dressed and head to school."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2111a7dcca07396889801a37c1008c35" "Let me know when you're ready and I'll drop you off on the way to the station."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="865e8df07f3a4b288938a83f17a4bb27" I nod and walk back to the living room. I pour the Brisk into the water bottle before grabbing my bag and making my way to the bathroom. I packed gray skinny jeans with a pastel pink blouse. Surprisingly, my outfit goes fine with the black jacket I grabbed when leaving the house and spending nights in the hospital have caused me to collect enough makeup that I have one bag that stays in my backpack and another bag that stays at home. I have everything I need with me at all times. At least I got good preparation skills from this I guess./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="20e6c0a2a52eee9862a7b69f0c730e71" I pack up my things making sure to keep everything neat so it all fits right. My bag is too full but that's what having extra clothes in it does. Sheriff was ready before I was but I think he was ready hours before I even woke up. He was always up and ready super early, just like my dad. I'm still a little convinced they don't need sleep./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="6ce2ef6518f61938ecfc48ce76e83118" Once we get to the school's parking lot, Sheriff pulls out a pen with a pad of paper. "Here's your note. If there's a problem, you call me. Got it?" He rips the note from the pad and hands it to me./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="854262b5d6881afbc9c0729ebc0e4fb9" "Yep. Thanks again, Sheriff." I collect my things as I thank him. I really want to get into school and start distracting my head with useless information. Also, it never gets any less weird being dropped off at school in a cop car./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c959853ee1b884380596354e4187805d" "Yeah." He nods as if to be unsure of actually letting me leave the car./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="32792021f7ff06fc548b94573c95f86d" "I'm fine." I reassure him, knowing all too well he wants to ask./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c12ab51ef5152d68e905e0249a16a4a8" "Are you sure, Cam? You don't have to go. Your dad already said you don't."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f2c595014c94ef429dc77d45ffac5bd9" "I'm fine, honest. I've gotta get to class. You know how much Mr. Harris just loves late students." I smile with sarcasm which makes the sheriff shake his head and chuckle lightly./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0bb30780e44b3c4cbcd66c3fa3d535d3" I thank him once more before exiting his car. My backpack is slung across my back while I take a drink from the water bottle that's now completely cooled my tea. I read the note as I enter the building. In quick handwriting, it says that I was at the hospital all night with my mom who had a stroke and is in a coma. I'm happy Sheriff doesn't actually give any more detail than that. It's none of Mr. Harris's business and he'll be an annoyance and a jackass no matter what this note says./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9bd9f62699a1fb35ee68ad43c32dc23f" I stop by the office and they check my note, signing off on it. They direct me to Mr. Harris's class with sorrow filled eyes. They want to apologize but they don't. Awkwardness filled the office instead. Awkwardness and sympathy. Two things I'm going to need to get to used to and fast./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e5ce4f7d4074fb91a448c2a2cbe82ede" The walk to Mr. Harris's classroom is longer than usual. My feet drag against the limonium floors as the fluorescent lights lead my way. I just keep telling myself it's better than being at the hospital right now. It has to be better. Anything to keep my mind off of my mom and my dad. Maybe Stiles will make some jackass remark and it'll start an argument with Mr. Harris. That would be amazing. That's one hell of a way to keep my mind distracted./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="73182aa0ba5dc2015c422044284d2ebf" As I reach Mr. Harris's class, I take a deep breath, preparing myself for a snide remark. One class and then I can move on. I open the door and eyes fall on me. The first eyes I see are Stiles's. He looks relieved that I actually showed. The second was Scott who shot me a sympathetic smile. Stiles and Scott know. I know Sheriff told Stiles and Stiles told Scott. It's written across their faces. Everyone else's eyes fall in line with theirs including Jackson and Danny. I hate Jackson so if he could keep his eyes away from me, I'd more than appreciate it. He's such an ass kissing jerk./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ed39255059f85dbca7f430e8def76ff8" But, I look to the very front and there's Mr. Harris, all smug and ready to throw me a detention. "Nice of you to finally join us, Miss O'Riley." The arrogance in his voice makes me want to throw a beaker at his head. "I'll see you after school for detention." I set my things by Scott as he attempts to give me a detention./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d512cdd1d18b08fe2f9509b62f6c7ef2" "I have a note that excuses me." My voice is level but filled with annoyance as I walk up to him and hand him the note./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="6c9c1b8ac89d1973ea5df4234be129ab" "Well," He says, looking over the note as I make my way back to my seat beside Scott. "Is that a water bottle?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d48ec67204597e2bbf2031e2651965f1" "Yeah." I look to the water bottle on the table and wait for his point./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="86d000a7a235e3514425f7277874aae5" "No outside food or drinks. Detention."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e97625a17b947a38b84c1294e2835853" "Are you kidding me?" All eyes have yet to leave me as my voice raises. "When has that been a rule?" I look around and see two other students with water bottles on their tables./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3aef323565a85cc8d21c63106bd84c5d" "What about them? They have water." Stiles pipes in from behind me./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3aaebf07a6103562ed3617181bcb13e8" Mr. Harris chuckles as he looks down before glancing between Stiles and me. "You see, thanks to the way your dads treated me during the investigation, I'm going to make sure I give the both of you the same special treatment. I'll be seeing the both of you in detention." He smiles as if he's won some tremendous battle./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c3e3107192fc6eec7055b8af6a844111" What kind of son of a bitch gives kids detention for their parents dying and for what? Speaking and asking a question. It's not our fault he's a terrible person and our dads see through his facade./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="773f7785a7216ab81e3d0654fbfd0689" "What? You can't do that!" Stiles fights back and by the tone of his voice, I think he wants to start throwing beakers at Mr. Harris's face, too./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="144a6e7b97033af5b058b9974485f9db" "Oh, but I can." Mr. Harris's eyebrows raise with a jubilant smile and I'm done. I was raised better but I don't care./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="031fce587724528f467b6cd0eaa691fd" "No." I say plainly and throw my bag over my shoulder./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="24e921e11dda027cfb03a56fc90a8069" "Excuse me?" He looks to me in surprise./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="35b28f4023a3080ffa8083d08f3a2e77" "No. I'm not serving a detention because you were a person of interest, and rightfully so. That's your own fault. You can't take out your anger with Sheriff Stilinski and Deputy O'Riley on their kids. You think you can because you're an authority figure, but you can't." I grab the water bottle from my desk and make my way to the door again before Mr. Harris starts talking./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="166ed8311df54b34fb5ee45731390873" "Miss O'Reily take your seat right now or I will have you suspended." His face turns red and I look to Stiles and Scott who both look like they're about to walk out with me./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="addcbf859f61a971c4f8a6cde96d7f13" "I'll take the suspension." I roll my eyes with the shake of my head. "See, teachers like you are why kids flunk out. You think because you're a teacher that you can just do what you want and nothing can happen to you. You're manipulative, malicious, and quite frankly, sociopathic. We aren't your damn science experiment. So, if you'll excuse me, I have a brain dead mom I have to help my dad unplug in thirty-six hours. I don't need your condescending remarks." I stare at him just long enough to see his jaw clench with fury before walking out./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="207831afbd95c97d7f28a5ebe899061f" I've wanted to do that all year. He's a prick. He can't stand students. It doesn't even matter who they are or who their parents are. He's one of those people who shouldn't be teaching because he simply doesn't like kids. He needs to go into another field. It's not like teachers make a butt load of money anyway./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="bf76d48e15ead0ce95808d7ac4a56dfd" As I walk down the deserted hallway, I hear Mr. Harris scream at Stiles to sit down or he'd have him suspended as well. I know Stiles would sit right back down because his dad would have his ass but I kind of wish he wouldn't. I wish he would come out here and just, I don't know. I don't want to talk but maybe if he came out here, I wouldn't be so mad or maybe, since he'd already be looking at a suspension, he'd be willing to drive me to the hospital or at least the station. Something./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="7b38049a98edc3a77a1012abf4c7356a" But nothing. I walk the hallway alone and exit through the grayish blue double doors by myself. I sit on the steps and look at the students' cars. Realistically, I could walk to the station. I could walk to the hospital. Both walks would take me awhile, but I could do them. But I don't. I just sit and allow my blood to calm. I drink my tea and reminisce./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="375df7c08006729d1db0406ffd05a990" As the time ticks on, I'm realizing that I need more than just acquaintances. I need friends who are gonna be there because if I don't, I'm going to drown. I need people who are going to have my back while my dad will be down and out, wrapped in his own sorrow./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9cc1072cf25ccb559a7564409cab1e9e" It's a little weird because I never actually had to try and make friends. Stiles was so easy because we had school and our dads. It would have been harder to hate each other than to be friends. Scott was just a part of the package and as I said, I liked him so it was fine. I had two friends by just existing. And they weren't friends with me because they had to be. They always included me even if I wasn't around. I didn't have to make the effort to have them as friends. And then being homeschooled, I was too busy distracting myself with homework and photography, computers, my mom. I didn't need friends and I still had Stiles and Scott for the first two years. Now is the first time I actually have to make the effort. I think that effort should be more towards befriending Allison though. Her only friend is Lydia. Scott's her boyfriend so he doesn't count and Stiles is around because of Scott so he doesn't count either. Allison is a small and safe step./p 


	3. part 3 lens flare

p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4ddb876306959517db0b3a6fa2046448" I guess I'd have been sitting on these steps for hours without realizing it because the next thing I know, Scott was in front of me, waving his hand in front of my face, trying to get my attention./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e6c07664af4d594d0e0b9d7c7ea939aa" "Huh?" I finally say as I widen my eyes and look around at everyone moving around me and to their cars./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9e20f3d18d6e9ac553855692144f87f3" "Why're you still here?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="bfa924f832d46b8b1297a6dd6f2e89d9" "I, uh," I furrow my eyebrows in thought just trying to remember the hours but nothing. "I don't know."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a8e51637fce79ab5e9ac32025a5234f4" "Are you okay?" Scott's eyes don't leave me as he waits for an answer./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a01bcc766b06e6580f5a85b928c49ca3" "Yeah, I guess, I just got thinking."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d2379c14814af19c14bb4362db03bbfc" "Do you wanna talk or something?" Scott offers his hand to help me up./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="35e3774576d8340bb4e4732518fb2e49" "Um," I sigh as I run a hand through my hair. Normally, I'd turn him down but if I really want friends, I need to stop telling people no. "actually, yeah." I take his hand and stand up with him. "But, can you just take me to the hospital and we'll talk on the way?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ad8a3f92505c5aacc78d91fa32c20c1e" "I've got my bike so you gotta take the pegs." He smiles and jerks his head towards the bike rack before he starts walking./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2d48fc2078d92ae49bffbea79632386b" "So, um, my mom had a stroke last night." I say with a low voice as Scott undoes the lock to his bike./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="abc541bc87c8370446dce80465021d71" "I'm sorry, Cam." Scott looks up to me before continuing the lock./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3813a44a30688784cfd5d288e4fd2860" "Yeah," I nod and look around the parking lot. "Um, they couldn't do anything. She's on life support and she told my dad to give her forty-eight hours if this ever happened then pull the plug."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="499b61a2cea71220ebc106b60f1dcbfb" "That's...that's horrible." Scott says with furrowed eyebrows as he stands up. "I'm, wow. I'm really sorry." He pulls his bike from the rack and starts walking, allowing me to keep a steady pace with him. "Nothing anyone can do?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8d897ec14d9a2182acf66f234251979c" "No." I tug at the strap at my backpack and a kick a small pebble. "She's brain dead and I mean," I let out a soft breath and feel the burning behind my eyes start up again. "she, well, she couldn't do anything on her own anyway and she was in pain and just, I don't know. I think it's for the best." I say as we get onto a sidewalk and Scott mounts his bike, not moving until I get on his back pegs. "Ya know? At least she won't be in pain anymore kind of thing."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="fec7e5a79be2605ba2925b93a80e002d" "Yeah," He nods as the wind starts blowing through our hair. "Doesn't make it suck any less, though."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="547871c0b5ab3cad956411dcf1189397" "Nope." I fight back the tears with a hard swallow and shake my head./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0cc317b61fda3d375421f02c6cfcf2da" My heart is pounding and everything is moving fast. Every time I distract myself and revisit the thought of my mom, it hurts more. It hurts so much more and I feel like everything is going to collapse on me the second she actually dies. But I don't want to sit and think about her because that hurts, too. Everything just hurts./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a4a5eae99aa60417042ad3011d5de1a5" "Talk about something else." Scott snaps me from my thoughts./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="782993f965a8b9f773d2055016fa0c7c" "Like what?" I swallow hard again being sure tears don't slip./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a45294115b0fe5efc2a3fe909dc69fb9" "Anything."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4e198f25d7e95689bde5ea4c3df3ab8a" "How are you and Allison?" I figure the best thing to talk about, is about something that doesn't involve me at all and Scott and Allison is exactly that./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d3a167643f47dcafe96b6b3176b19887" "Broke up." Scott yells over the passing semi-truck./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5cbf47606ba4515a70ad0856f9da70e2" "What? Why?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4b5fd6e187dcc4652c0d328a94768108" "It just wasn't working."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="144e2782d89aed778dfb66084d123acb" "Doesn't that sound familiar." I let out a soft chuckle. I said the same thing when Stiles and me stopped being friends. It just wasn't working. "Talking about it won't fix anything?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="98362dc03dc015bc2935538c5787e603" "It's not something that can be talked out."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="aa05a384531ce55f23207b6c61aadcd2" "But you still like her don't you? I mean, you look at her like you do." Scott looks at Allison like she's his saving grace./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8b02b370fc169fe4db04b6e429a953f6" "Yeah, of course I do but it's complicated, ya know? Her family kind of hates me."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f132b5584fda25c235329b3b4a79dacd" "So? You're Scott McCall. You never cared if people liked you or not."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2895b62bc4009b36e3e2aedf7d518624" "Yeah, but it's different this time! It's her parents."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="01586b1bb807d6ba18918a5b7f71e915" "So? Scott, you either like her enough to be with her or you don't. Fuck it, dude. Besides, you'll grow on her parents. You grew on me." I smirk even though he can't see me./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="50e274e9fecff71ccee228c1d8853520" "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Cambridge O'Riley, always out giving advice."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="263b5061b4edd8f0fc3ab8a103fba4d7" "Hey!" I smack his shoulder. "It's good advice and you should take it. Look, you both like each other, and it'd be such a waste for you to not make it work. Too many times people let that kind of thing slip away and you don't want to look back in twenty years and think what if. We're teenagers!"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="62f465eb1aec8cded3d12fb999df874e" "Alright how about I take your advice when you start taking it." Scott says as the hospital becomes just a few seconds away./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="89d537179fbed6c59b72d21eab4849e1" "What's that supposed to mean?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f0d1066095c83ee8cfe6a4c1d66197b9" "Really?" Scott asks as he turns into the hospital parking lot./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="91647142849b3db3fd48037caa9b84e6" "Yeah, really."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0fdfcf6715ff970ddad26358423006c4" "You still like him don't you?" I hop off his bike as he slows down./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d6a74e98ff87a8da90e7081e0c4673a6" "Psh, no. Why would I like Stiles?" I furrow my eyebrows as my cheeks flush red./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="186a67188bb9f804ffb96fa7246a6d25" I told Scott that I liked Stiles when we were in the fifth grade. Stiles was being Stiles, trying to give Lydia a dandelion he picked during recess. Lydia, well, she brushed him off as she did the day before and the two years before that, similar to what she does now. People in this place seem to be pretty consistent. But, I just had a bug up my butt that day. I think I fought with my dad before school or something so I was in a bad mood and watching Stiles with Lydia and Lydia treat him like she did, pissed me off so much I was talking Scott's ear off about how I'd liked to punch her just once. Of course, Scott was curious as to why because he always thought it was funny and Stiles never seemed to be hurt or discouraged by Lydia's actions. Stiles, always in good spirits some how. But, I made Scott pinky swear that he wouldn't tell anyone and Scott stuck his pinky right out and locked it with mine. So, I told Scott that I liked him but he was my friend and I was afraid he'd be all weird. Weirder than normal anyway. I guess Scott still remembers that./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0ba452486682529dcd35faeb2840afdd" Scott's eyes widen a little as his words seem to falter, like he was going to say something he shouldn't but he quickly regains himself. "I never said Stiles." He smirks as he wiggles his eyebrows and my jaw hangs a little at the realization./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1d1eb20ca6ad4ead4eab0924a205517c""Who else would you be talking about?" I try to brush it off with a soft laugh./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="cff3f6b5d31bd7fb5f794595626e24bf""Alright, fine." Scott shakes his head with a guilty smile. "You still seem to want to look out for him. Last night." Scott's smirk doesn't budge as he locks his bike into place./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="19b551970fe2aa65b392cdc5dccd5ee2" "That's just being friendly. You know my dad would have my ass if I didn't try and make sure Stiles was safe. He was supposed to go home yesterday, that's why he was my ride."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a9a2f690543d1fa6d99ac39415749ae4" Scott shakes his head as he stands back up. "Sure."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="b96e4341cb4ef6231fb92df966256fcf" "I'm serious." I try and glare at him but end up laughing instead./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0249c4c1b1e7e25baec2515b30506c6b" "You can lie to yourself but not me." Scott's smirk turns arrogant as we enter the hospital./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="7ebd9c1cd828ec1efb48aafd64888684" "You know, it doesn't matter anyway." My voice goes up with confidence as I know my feelings don't matter and Scott's words are meaningless./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1db253cd6229811da49152caee72cc78" "Why?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="625bd980e018af46de7fbac711fcdb0e" "Well, okay, I'll humor the ridiculous idea that I like him. I tell him and nothing will change. I mean, you know how we left things and besides, I don't want to look like Stiles."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e1210277373608f8a8a5896d97c4a253" "What?" Scott's face twists with all sorts of confusion./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="579a676f0a06fd61844a770c89cbdeda" "Stiles. I mean, I don't want to look like he does. He's still falling over Lydia's heels. Everyone knows that. I don't want to be someone pawning after someone that wants someone else."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="6695458b7e4308f5dc62ea9be1171ad2" "Cam," Scott looks to me with pitiful eyes. "You know it won't look like that. It's Stiles."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="eae65d43b22afc5bdfbc4c23c776faef" "Well, it's a good thing I don't like him. We'll never know."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="901abd086987b7ba91ce03cd8c692520" "Either way, did you ever think that maybe you should apologize to him?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="75669bbef4c9cd20ad90fc1067ad9ada" I purse my lips and roll my eyes. "Of course but I don't think he really wants to hear it."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="dfe4bd4cdb39b8896470b277470d53fb" "Are we talking about the same Stiles?" Scott huffs./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="046aec126dc3bd615e455b97cca805af" "Come on, Scott. He doesn't care." I sigh as he keeps walking with me./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="eb6e15d59eb95b6246e5b5cc18327dcf" "How would you know? It's not like you talk to him."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="27deb8b3b9f499983982926b6a1e4801" "You're here and he's not." I look to Scott as his mouth is held in a straight line showing his distaste for what I'd just said./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="cc4c3c27d8383bd19b571b27789453a2" "That's not fair."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="21b8fc72acb307fac41c078b57ab5436" "I know." My words are guilty./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="97c66fb408ab0b2f8ebf55cca7f3749b" It's not fair. It's not fair because this is not Stiles's place. It hasn't been his place in years so it is not his place now. We both know it and yet I still find myself wishing it was. Stiles has his own life and Scott has his own life. Let's face it, had I not got lost in my head, I wouldn't have been at the school and Scott would be doing whatever it is he does. It's my fault for pushing Scott away and it's my fault for being horrible to Stiles. So, no, it's not fair./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3df711c6327450a5e23220941fac0058" "I'm sorry." I shake my head as we get closer to my mom's new room. "It's not you and it's not Stiles. Just, everything going on, talking about him, pinches a nerve, ya know?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="b624b9db4a6f86ee937694172b27aae4" "Yeah, I get it." The corner of his mouth pulls up with empathy. "Don't worry about it." He looks to the side of him before continuing. "You know, you can hang out with us again, though."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8456c4733bf61b304fb680e1936b3096" "Yeah, think I'm gonna try and stick around more." I pull my mouth into the best smile I could muster./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="791361b117586ff1324e428a5bda25f4" "Good, it'll be like old times in no time." Scott's optimism. He was always the optimist. "But, I gotta head out. Call me if something happens or if you need something, alright?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="fc4d9739db79e5f3631e93f82792bf99" "Will do. Thanks, Scott." I send him a sincere smile as he gives a light hug./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="33487a27a4218758d43446cf7f0e68d9" He walks off which allows me to stand in the hallway that's a little too calm for my personal comfort. I absolutely adore Scott and I think I owe him a few things for the ride and the talk. Both of which weren't big favors but they're both something I really needed. I actually think I needed an actual conversation more than anything. It felt like old times, like we never skipped a beat. It's funny because I thought that if that were to ever happen, it'd be with Stiles and it'd be weird with Scott because the fight was with Stiles and me. So it was kind of like a breakup. The best friend takes their friend's side and stays cautious of that person if they reenter the best friend's life. But that's not it. It's not awkward or unfriendly. It's incredibly pleasant with Scott. It's downright awkward with Stiles and the air fills with unsaid words and unreleased tension and frustration. It's hostile. How can hostile air and tension make me miss something so much?/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0e289c519baee3ba37691973081afcdd" "Hey, how was school?" My dad asks as I enter the room where my mom is hooked up to machines and a tube is snaked from her throat./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="7bc871a9e6bfe9200711cc7ca6fa39d2" "I think I got suspended." I furrow my eyebrows as my eyes stay on my mom./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1345d02b21c1b06a92ba4a6a24a56fa0" "What?" His voice raises but with surprise, not anger./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1bddeb33bb245b25feeda2a7aa30f859" "Harris wanted to give me a detention for a water bottle so I told him he's a bad person and walked out." I skimped the details because I know he'll forget them with everything with my mom and I'll have to repeat it once the office calls him about it./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a00ab5aadefa6c2fb91d3ec7f6ecc8a8" "He's an ass. You're not gonna be suspended. I'll go there tomorrow morning."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d0c6dca5aaddacea45f200fec413c247" "Dad, don't." I finally pry my eyes away from my mom just to roll them at my dad. "I think you have other things to worry about." I look back to my mom./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="85225a9577430477270dfd88c213edc0" "Hey," He leans forward in his seat as his face contorts with heartache. "Whatever is going on with you, that's important, too and don't you ever think otherwise, alright? I'm the dad and I take care of you, no matter what."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="69f8e60d650a7086873cf82e68dbe8ed" "I think Mom kind of trumps me right now." I give him a sad smile as my voice cracks./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4ead1bf40d358f83edf6d4f728c9a67e" "You know what?" He stands up and approaches me. "Go. I'm taking care of you and by doing that, you don't have to be here. You don't have to be here. You go be a kid. You've done enough taking care of your mother for me. And I am sorry I ever allowed you to do that."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="be3559193234bd876a04d3a25ed93031" "It's okay, Dad. I don't care. I want to be here." I avoid eye contact as his hands are rested on my shoulders. I know if I look him in the eyes, I'll completely break down. I will see his heart breaking in front his eyes, his whole world shattering and I can't do that./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ca5e0d5857dfcdc8ceddae49bc9b6e22" "I don't want you here. I want you out being a kid. em style="box-sizing: border-box;"Making friends/em." My eyes look to his face just enough to see a tear start falling./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="bb52e34ec147b907c1a94585a0709a11" I've seen my dad cry. I have but it was rare and I knew it was bad. The first time I saw him cry was when I was younger. It was one his first days working at the station. A kid was hit by a drunk driver. The kid died in the middle of the street. I overheard my mom and dad talking about it. The second time was when my mom got diagnosed and the most recent was when she needed to be admitted because we couldn't take care of her anymore. I hate seeing him cry. He's my foundation and if he falters, I feel like I'm gonna crushed. em style="box-sizing: border-box;"He's my dad/em./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8c941c8cafc5f18a80d735c05519abd6" "I promise, I'll call you if something changes and we aren't doing it until tomorrow night at least, okay? Please go with Scott or that girl Allison. Hell, you guys can look for Lydia. But, Cam, you gotta do something besides sit in this hospital."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="54192ef36531410a3ceb8cd1616651ec" "I don't have a ride anywhere. Give me an hour." I cave to my dad's wishes./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="caf87b2f76b62c5eaf849deff6c23780" It's unexpected. I get what he means. I shouldn't be in a hospital all the time. I'm sixteen. I should be out with friends, having fun but instead, I sit next to a hospital bed working on coding and photography. It's just hard. My dad gets that more than anyone. My grandparents talked about how all my dad wanted to do when he grew up was being a police officer and I know, despite the terrible shit he comes across sometimes, he loves it. It's written all over his face. He spends more time here than he does at the station now. My mom getting sick made us give up so much and none of it was done in vein. I just, I don't feel right about it. I don't feel right leaving my dad here and I don't feel right leaving my mom here even if she's gone already. I feel like I need to be here until her heart stops./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="645d81312a8e7c235f3b538d63881474" I take a seat next to my dad and pull out my phone. I text Scott and ask about Allison. He said they broke up but it's Scott so I figured he'd know if Allison would be willing to hang out with me for a few hours and if she had a car. Apparently, however, she has to go to her aunt's funeral. My dad talked about that. Supposedly, she killed a bunch of people or something. My dad didn't tell me much about it but from the sounds of it, it was pretty gruesome. But with that being said, I only have one other option./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5899f4080cd19402a75dbefeef20926b" I text Stiles and despite him being in detention, he responds right back. He said he'd be here whenever Harris lets him out. At least Stiles is still reliable. Maybe that's a good sign. Or maybe it's just pity. Regardless, I'll take whatever I can get at this point./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="6e35cf1ee65071eab6078800ccfe95f0" While I wait for Stiles, I pull out my laptop with my box of memory cards, all of them being labeled with numbers so I remember which ones are which. I find it easier to have thirty-two or sixty-four gigabyte memory cards for the different things I photograph rather than one one hundred twenty-eight gigabyte card. I think this just keeps everything more organized./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3842516bc107decbd697cee4613307d1" I load Photoshop and Lightroom as I transfer images to my laptop. As I scroll and delete the ones that I'm not fond off, I get to the one of the lacrosse practice before the weekend. Stiles looks like he's going to pass out and die on the spot. Jackson looks like the arrogant son of a bitch that he is. Danny looks the most in place out of everyone but then there's Scott. There's like a lens flare over his eyes. If it were one picture or with other people, I wouldn't really think much of it but it's only him and it's span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold;"every single/span picture with his eyes. I've never seen eyes look like that before. I don't even think contacts can cause that kind of flare and I don't think Scott wears contacts anyway./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8eb54e7cfb2efda66fe6213ce76c3d22" "What's wrong?" My dad asks as he notices the confused look./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="26c0fbb71e1d7bb2102280e721878665" "Uh, just, weird lens flare." I furrow my eyebrows and keep scrolling./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4f90a1fe5b52062366c8eaec7586a8fd" "Can you fix it?" My dad snickers, more than likely confused why I look so bothered by it./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="71a6ea9a49eda2e9940b007a6c168fdf" "I don't think so. It's just weird. Maybe I need to clean my lens or something."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="6f4318f0168ebf321de085fac2e5075a" The conversation is dropped and I'm left questioning the images myself. I try and brush it off as I start opening the pictures into Lightroom, adding on my specified effect settings. It helps me actually. Editing and seeing the lacrosse players in their element is calming. It's as if it's my own little world and no one can hurt me or bother me here. I guess that's why I picked photography as a hobby instead of a sport./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="dfe1da1dc3cc1fc676e9b0bf2f69b35c" Before I know it, my phone is vibrating against my leg and Stiles is outside. I quickly tell him I'd be right out before saying goodbye to my dad, making sure he knows to call me if something happens. He promises and hugs me, shooing me to have fun and be a kid but not to get into too much trouble. I just roll my eyes and leave./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0ad7ea12a7c6f536c7ccfe34bae2f8ec" As Stiles sees me, he exits his jeep and nearly falls, tripping over his own legs./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="b7f03ce179758024902dd1d671833eb4" "What are you doing?" I laugh as I reach him./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8fbef3f7d41e1c080fbf6c7bc72380e6" "Was gonna open the door for you." He gestures with his hand as if I should have known better./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="cfb95f163cb4da5fed8585577c1de672" "Oh, is chivalry not dead with thee Stiles Stilinski?" I mock as we walk to the passenger side./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e9775becac57cb58d53ab1898987a7ad" "Shut up and get in the jeep." His eyes narrow at my remark which just makes me laugh more. "Alright, so, I gotta take you home." Stiles says as he gets back in the jeep./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="61dedb932652b3fb48fe34f28c73a5d7" "Guess it is dead." My smile drops as I put my bag on the floor and my seat belt across my chest./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="09b8deecb0caef20733882d33b407918" "I just have something I gotta do and we can hang out after." Stiles tries to recover but it doesn't help./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="055e9f973932d2a05c985dedb78fce45" "You don't have to hang out with me if you don't want to, ya know?" I sigh as I move my eyes to my window./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8764d3bc90b49124ec54395f1846587c" "No, I do, it's just." Stiles lets out a sigh and I can feel his eyes peering at me. "We're going to Allison's aunt's funeral and we're not supposed to be there."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8bda0023921c9527f6d77a61e57dadce" "So why are you going if you're not supposed to?" I look back to him with a cocked eyebrow./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0155f11ec509dee2a3ae4e20efd3b49b" "For the food, why else?" His sarcasm fills the jeep and I can only shake my head./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="168b83aa0d05a65d7c9c37f60040afa5" "Let me guess, you can't tell me because it's dangerous."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d96a78103ab64169f72dded24ec3f448" "Yep." Stiles smiles wide with confidence./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="bb2150bad6cd62c2a98de7d1c00b955e" "So, what's so dangerous about a funeral?" I smile as I wait for him to try and come up with something./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="b64b042d87f931906775fc506a8dd548" "Oh, well, uh, ya know, cemetery. There are dead people."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="771c51445d8884d02814f4dc4d1700e5" "Are there zombies walking around that maybe I should know about or?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="967c698445e61c59b02f9e81c666bbbe" "You never know, Cam. Zombie apocalypse could be right around the corner. Can't joke about that stuff."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="88895d6ad29e39a985bf1283fe8f1b7c" I throw my head back with laughter. "You give me a headache." I look to him and he's staring at the road with the softest smile I've ever seen. "Alright, how about you just leave me in the jeep and I'll be your look out?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="324543411e4ddc2fbab4421996495ba0" "That's-" He starts shaking his head but quickly stops as he glances to me. "Actually a good idea but I'm still not telling you anything."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="66f81b28a65d23063835d5f6e74dc257" "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. I'll find out eventually. But afterwards, can I take some pictures of you for something?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d1fa703a11e166e36f35bf045174ec1e" "Can't get enough of my good looks in person?" His eyebrows wiggle with a smirk./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="26728f9b959cd5ddc642584242bb17f2" "Oh yeah, that's it." I smile with sarcasm and his eyes narrow as his smirk falls. "Just, uh," I stutter as I realize I don't have a reason I'm willing to tell him. If I tell him that I want to photograph him and compare the pictures to Scott and there's something going on with Scott, Stiles will know and he won't agree. "Got a new lens and I wanna test it out. You're on the lacrosse team and since you don't really play, you'll be left out of a lot of the lacrosse parts of the yearbook unless I get other pictures." I make up the quick lie and by the satisfied and touched look on Stiles's face, he believes me./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f8949645dc5ecefe11cf9f830db3a64a" "Okay." He nods in agreement and he looks way too pleased with himself. He's such a dork./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ba275c5252c230d4a48439a325ea6344" "And Stiles?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="40d2ec03aac286afcd4c44769a4cd743" "Yeah?" He looks to me with an uplifted voice./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5aef2390e75f690aad48ff9deae9fa78" "I'm sorry for the shit I said, uh, ya know. Back then."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5f91cdf548fc79608c050ee297a145c0" Stiles shakes his head as his face scrunches with touches of grief. "Don't worry about."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1c46a272af9035d94d864f508174fa12" "No it was wrong and I," I take a breath and swallow my pride. "I miss you. You were my best friend." I shrug and look back to my window./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a41055a41d1b8d90f9f855ee9dd39359" "I wasn't very nice to you either when my mom died, remember? It's okay, Cam. Put it behind us." He touches my shoulder and it's like I'm being electrocuted. "And I'll totally deny it if you tell anyone, but I missed you, too."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="39014a7a007aded991ef710e9f39acb3" With those simple words, any form of tension or awkwardness that was between us, disappeared as if it had never formed in the first place. Sure, I didn't say exactly what I wanted to and I apologized sooner than I wanted to but I figure that now is a better time than ever. We're in his jeep alone and the sarcasm between us felt like home. I needed to apologize. I'm a bit surprised he apologized back though. I remember what he said because I went home and cried but we were eleven. His mom was dead, his dad was drinking more than he was doing anything else. I pushed a button and he snapped. I never once blamed him for that. Which, I guess explains why he doesn't blame me for what I said./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="26a52b2f3544f74cbd1671e494966356" We get close to the cemetery and Stiles pulls over. "Okay, I'll be back just watch out for anyone and text me if you see something."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="afcecb58996bce5a20d1125bf06bac98" "What am I looking for?" I bite my lip as he slams the old door./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="fd4d404a0c3c27d68e0c19c6d50c6766" "Just, anything that looks suspicious."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="74130ce314f51e1e074cbe8fc96523c9" "Stiles, it's a funeral for someone who is a supposed mass murderer and there's a ton of media." I look in front of us where we can see an entire flock of photographers and news crews./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ddb47c6da146ad7ae793164421f61abc" "Right." He nods. "Just, anyone that looks like they might want to maybe kill us or eat us."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3d1d0faaada414c70466d8491a5516d3" "Why do I feel like that's your actual concern?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="be7aa9c4faa9cede9f03187df0b0d32d" "Just watch for my dad then!" He says quickly and jots away./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="dc4bfe727eadae08e878786c10b5111e" As I sit and watch the funeral that's a fair distance away, I start taking pictures, some with flash and some without. It may not be the right setting or lighting or anything even remotely close to what I had for Scott, but I need to know why there are lens flares on his eyes. I zoom and take picture after picture, allowing them to build up before I take a look back. But, I notice someone in the crowd of other photographers and news personnel. It's Matt./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a4790b48f14e254e8e19956e34e53a76" Now, yeah he goes to the school but as far as I know, he isn't friends with Allison. He wouldn't be friends with her parents because he's our age. He's not a part of a news crew. Why the hell would he photograph a funeral? I keep my camera pointed at him and start taking pictures but that's when I notice he's focused on something specific. This isn't just a 'hey a funeral would be a cool thing to photograph for a project.' He's photography someone and that someone is Allison./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0da584b63c42489153704b6d76b641b1" Candids are cool and everything but there comes a point where they're also creepy. Showing up at someone's funeral, seeing as he's behind the tape, uninvited and taking pictures of one specific person is creepy as hell. Everything he does is creepy, as I said, but come on. This is another level. Is he just now noticing Allison? Or has he been photographing her all year and she's not noticed? Surely, if she knew, Scott would have known and I'd have heard him mention it by now. That's just weird./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3cc66552c868015c279fbdaaa0fd9f27" "Hey, Cam."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="08c8a89d4feeb4bf8f4bc266a5c1b580" "AH. Sh- HI, Sherriff." I look to the window where the sheriff is now leaning, looking pleased with himself and also curious. "What's, uh going on?" I smile as casually as I possibly can. I had one job./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="49d7a846f19b3e860071100bb32ca4ed" "A funeral, but you seem to know that. So, uh, whatcha doing?" He squints his eyes and his chin creases. This is the look he always gave us when he already knew we were gonna have to lie and he was waiting to see what we'd come up with. We never learn./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="7c82583891948d9f18d649f62d387f85" "Oh, uh, well, you see, my dad wanted to me get out of the hospital and ya know, be a kid." I nod my head and lean against the center console./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d382d11c19dfcfe2e5805c92f6bb0398" "Is that right? So, why are you at a cemetery during a funeral?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="7b3918524beb670dc47e91508d2eb357" "Oh, right!" I widen my eyes. "Apparently, cemeteries are where kids hang out now. So, I'm just here trying to put myself out there and make friends. Ya know?" I side smile and shrug one of my shoulders./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="82a5f844c3510f5df1f99e37420e3e22" "Right, so why are you in my son's jeep...alone? And span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold;"where is he/span?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c857ade37b81877635ebd7be91be387c" "Well, Sheriff, there is a really good explanation for both of those questions." I let out a soft laugh and scratch my head./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="561b8379efd299da7e08b0b383548887" "I can't wait to hear it."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3270d8169537c66c6c82ab24c0430677" "Oh, you want to hear it now?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e81eb2b5534aab4e061481ae196fc14e" "Yeah." He gives me a knowing smile but I figure I should just keep this going, give Stiles and Scott a little more time./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c784abb0d393581f3157bc3e77ee5ab0" "Well, um, the jeep. The jeep, something went wrong." I shrug my shoulders and push out my lips. "I still don't know cars. So, Stiles went to the auto parts store to pick up a part."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="dcbdb2f9864faf9d36dd2488311751b9" "That so?" He nods his head and looks to the ground. "Check the glove compartment."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="7762056e813a8e52c5dbe470ef61fc1f" I eye him with suspicion but open it anyway. There's paperwork, a wrench, a tire gage, and duct tape. Seriously, Stiles? Duct tape. I look back to the sheriff with defeat as I hold up the duct tape./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a93a79d06e3b6dd2254c032959a4586d" "Yeah, you wanna change your story?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="34906f8e1be6e003201cec5b90336315" "He...went to get...different duct tape?" I squint my eyes and almost offer the answer to him./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="cbc05dd4b9aee4171eacd1066884dc4b" "Get out of the jeep."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="fd31ea16303e0a8f68aaf0c0eb36b71a" "Yep." I toss the tape back into the compartment and get out./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9742104d306223579ee980080c10b2d2" "Where are they?" Sheriff sighs as he put his hands on his hips, growing impatient./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="bcc4b12cbedd3b807a536b53a519d488" "Around." I shrug with guilt as I adjust the strap on my camera. I look back to him and he's waiting for a more in depth answer. "No, really. I just know they're around." For the first time in this conversation, the truth comes from my mouth./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e7650ce87b13a9becc9547828d981862" He looks to the side with annoyance. "Let's go." He puts his hand on my shoulder and we start walking./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="6450da7129779bd7a3125dfa6cee7a3b" "I could just watch the jeep." I look back at the pale blue vehicle./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f13c5a695342920a8da78e35fd247fe4" "Nice try." He shakes his head with a slightly tighter grip on my shoulder./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5fccf0de28c4121465d4cfd796f67313" We walk through the grass of the outskirts of the funeral. The funeral is off to the side and in front of us but there's statues and tombstones so we aren't eye sores. It'd actually be pretty easy to spy on the entire funeral here. Makes sense Stiles parked where he did. But, Sheriff already knew that because, in no time, we reach a statue where Stiles and Scott are hiding./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4aba1213a263ca9db8a9813eef981822" "You three are unbelievable." Sheriff raises his voice a little as his face grows hard with anger. "Let's go." He grits his teeth, yanking Stiles and Scott by the collars of their shirts. I trudge behind, not daring to say anything./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8e1a276c3142f202d22baad863bec01f" We walk back to the cemetery parking lot where Sheriff Stilinksi puts us in the back of his car. I've been in the back of police cars my entire life and usually, it's because of something like this. It's still pretty uncomfortable. I mean, there's a cage separating us. What a way to make us feel like dangerous criminals rather than just kids who are curious./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ac8aac9d6e6ad6e75cc4d15fb346fa27" There's silence for a few minutes as Sheriff gets everything in his car straightened and put away. Scott is busy picking at part of the roof and Stiles is on the other side of me staring out the window as if waiting for a saving grace. I start going through the pictures on my camera and as I expected, there's not a single lens flare, not one. It's still just Scott./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="418c946eb6dfc05ceb48499f547c9eae" "415 ADAM" The radio comes in with bits of static./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="28169a2ee50ebc87b515953c8abb891a" "Disturbance in a car." Stiles whispers, more to Scott than to me./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3c3c0d6e01be4d71e76668ff1aeaf561" "Heart attack victim DOA. On the way to the hospital, something hit them." The radio continues and all four us sit in interest./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ac7bfa0ba29cf8e5df3e3244f767922f" "Hit the ambulance?" Sheriff asks in disbelief./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="25891213cad51bf6457d005b07eebf3a" "Copy that. I'm standing in front of it right now. Something got in the back. There's blood everywhere and I mean everywhere." The radio comes back and I look between the two boys. They look way too intrigued for my personal comfort. These idiots are going to go after this ambulance./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="188864c403c0a7bccc8bb5566e7e74c7" "Alright, well what's your 20?" Sheriff says back with a look of remorse./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9fed3a7b6cb5c907aef303bd50598c8f" "Route 5 and Post. I swear I've never seen anything like this before." The radio comes back and Scott and Stiles immediately look to each other./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ffef565545bcc3a1458cda38a5397e80" Before I can do or say anything, Scott is shoving me out of the car and Stiles is taking off. I have to run to keep up with them. Is it a good decision? No. It's always a bad decision to run with Scott and Stiles but I don't really want to deal with the wrath that was sure to come from the sheriff. So, Stiles and Scott it is. And they have all of my stuff in the jeep./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a32a8fa515f41ac33bfd32baa50cda54" "You morons," I gasp for breath as my throat burns. "are gonna go," I continue to gasp as we reach the jeep. "after that ambulance, aren't you?" They look between each other before Stiles gets in the driver's seat. "Morons. The both of you." I take one big gasp as I rest my hand on the blue paint./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3f85d17a3f9b27f62ff456eec25b178c" "You okay?" Scott looks to me before moving the passenger seat./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a69fe14568b739af7e3c6c55847ae122" "Yeah." I nod and get in the back of the jeep. "Damn allergies are killing me." I start coughing and motion for the water bottle that still has a little bit of tea. Scott hands it to me before taking his seat. "Seriously," I take a drink before talking. "you two are going to get yourselves killed."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0437c75c75921c11db5af8bdfff177fc" "Lydia is still missing, what if it's her, huh?" Stiles says with a worried tap of the steering wheel./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9465c0b273925419833b7d4728f35424" "That doesn't change the fact you could get yourselves killed." I retort with another drink./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1a01d6f8c7ff6897ac49386a998b9323" "Yeah and guess who won't be our lookout this time." Stiles comes right back, causing me to glare at him from the backseat./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="823c227eb5fc95450154aaa7166ae645" "Hey! I'm a little rusty, he came out of nowhere, and I was a little distracted." I try and defend myself./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ce69d63e16812272d7b1c81d9c8950ef" "Dude, the look out can't be distracted! What would have happened if Robin got distracted?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="fafa6419818080917eef0726b34fe797" "Well, Robin was the sidekick but Batman still would have lived! How long did he go without a sidekick?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e60cd37fd4bbddf4ad743a1e42892d57" "Wait. What were em style="box-sizing: border-box;"you/em distracted by?" Scott asks as he looks back to me and Stiles follows his lead./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e4fd570fee6966f21b525d8c3a842f87" "Right, about that." I nod with furrowed eyebrows. I almost forgot with ya know, being put the sheriff's car, reliving old times. "First of all, Scott, do you wear contacts or anything?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="22f2b4067b0c47977de49587238cafba" "Uh, no? Why?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="fea02ee36be3b51a44a79f83ab2783cd" "Just curious. But what do you guys know about that Matt kid?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="bb8e041aeae2347ac0a8efce8a9e4857" "Nothing really. Plays lacrosse with us, but you know that."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a3e516e88b65c4dfde4a01a4afe54645" "I don't like him." Stiles shakes his head before turning around and starting up the jeep./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e2cb484876753bb60e6cc70e52ecab77" "Why?" Scott and me say at the same time./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8a9ad40856a68936f2ccafb1f6c66408" "He just...he looks weird." Stiles pulls away from the curb./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ddb8fc0f2456337c012a6f943f0c553d" Scott and me look between each other with cocked brows. "Right, that's good reasoning." I roll my eyes before continuing. "Alright, so I'm sitting here, messing with my camera and I spot him through the lens."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ae1a489377c05677928189b34773491a" "Wait, he's at the funeral?" Scott asks, not peeling his eyes away from me./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="babe73cf758b5e84f089f1f2c1050020" "Yeah, he's not friends with the Argents, I assume, so I keep watching him and I follow his camera because of course he's taking pictures and guess who he's taking them of." There's silence in the jeep as the boys wait for me to continue. "Allison. And since I haven't heard you say anything about him or Allison and I haven't seen him and Allison together, that's weird, right? I mean, his camera was basically glued to her."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f6f4b81cfa47161415f0497fa198b630" "Why would he be taking pictures of Allison?" Scott asks and I can see the redness come into his cheeks./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2f9ddae2e70ed7a4c8d9e2406ae462e0" "I don't know. I figured one of you would know."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="54fcdb29ca6fc779646a9407888b690d" "Gonna have to find out then." Scott grits his teeth./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="da1df3800fc04faafa038f0480dd2757" "Don't." I shake my head and put my hand on his shoulder. "Watch him. See what he does. Think he might have something to do with what you guys are looking into?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="b338c04e5e078dd1205966de00c9fba6" "Probably not but he's taking pictures of Allison-"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="93964a3602447389b805a0438cab7543" "Let me help."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="17d00ee8d8ea8f6d11179da911960a65" "Nooooo." Stiles says with the shake of his head./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d1a8bc8a7ed4f009d546c89f8bbc9912" "Why not?" I suck in my cheeks with annoyance./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="901464221d8550c3a3d8c28b8f9cc7e4" "You've got too much going on and I told you, we got it."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ce56e9567cee579bd44365194d1f44c5" "Yeah, I've got some stuff going on and I need something to keep my mind off of it and if you guys don't think he has anything to do with your little investigation, then this is between Scott and me. I'll look out for Allison so Scott here can focus on whatever this is." I smile with the offer knowing Scott will jump on it./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="242b95085b0c28d73fbee9f3a363afde" "She's right, dude." Scott sighs as he looks to the driver's side. "If he's photographing Allison, you know."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9fbe0642000ac84b98e319fd6b04cd3a" "What? Scott." Stiles looks to him with shock before shaking his head. "Ah, ugh, Fine." He agrees with resistance. "But can you let us know if something weird happens?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3fe89858a74e4f6396203d1015bf81f1" "You need to start defining weird if you're not gonna tell me what the hell is going on." I roll my eyes and lean back in my seat. "Like, you two weird, Matt's creepy weird, Derek Hale suddenly making appearances around town again weird, random animal attacks weird?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="bbf3755472415c6764c64d6fcb03aa4e" "Animal attacks and Derek." Scott says in the most nonchalant voice./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="fee0bc9a3cfb638455e4a0b1fd5f2f81" "You two are way too calm for this shit."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="28108ddca125386ce44dda54db00bef1" They know way more than I originally thought. I thought maybe they were one step ahead of the police but now I'm starting to think they're in year 2030 while everyone else is in the 90's. I don't care how ballsy they were when we were kids, they wouldn't go in blind to see why an ambulance is covered in blood. That's not some animal attack and yet they're throwing themselves dead center. It's, it's like they know it's dangerous and they can get hurt but like they have lesser odds of it happening. Regardless, they're idiots. They are idiots who I love but they are idiots./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="82562b86ed938f19b6045063ef9395a3" "Well, here you go. Home safe." Stiles turns around and smirks at me. I shake my head and roll my eyes in response. He just has to rub it in./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="6f4b789a361a337b1511819734f6a1f4" Scott gets out and so I can get out from the back. He hands me my bag before getting back in his seat. "See you tomorrow if you're not suspended." Scott gives me a sweet smile before shutting his door./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9a848d3a436108b19ddbadf9bb3c3ea1" I make my way to Stiles's side, water bottle in hand, camera dangling from my neck, and backpack clung to my back. "Be careful." I nod as his window is already rolled down. "And I'll give this back tomorrow when it's clean." I hold the bottle up and wiggle it./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="dd677eddc1475c9c3d704da7c0d5b7de" "Don't worry about it." His smile is graceful but it falls just short as a closed fist hits the steering wheel barely hard enough to even make a noise. "Call," He nods. "if you need anything." He bites his lip as his sentence finishes./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0f8ce9a4f036da769fb7e9654427deb0" "Thanks." I purse my lips as I feel my eyes gloss over with the small reminder of the ticking time. "Just don't go getting yourself killed, please."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f4bc637c8006612964775d3339b99b58" "Of course not. You still have to photograph me." His sarcasm and smile perk right back up./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a4b848842f89f6a7eede1b3c01d7f1d9" "Right." I smile and laugh, him reminding me of the lie I told him./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0d0b11f9b90cbba11d10a06bfbdd88ec" Here's the thing, Stiles still makes my heart beat against my rib cage. My heart feels like it's just run a marathon without the strain of being out of breath. His smile, oh man, can Stiles's smile make a room go silent. It's elegant and graceful while being completely full of mischief and sarcasm. And, while I stand here, beside his jeep, knowing he's going to go somewhere that is very dangerous, all I want to do is hug him. Just hug him. Because, he's so safe and I would give anything to be his safety because while he looks confident and determined that he's gonna find Lydia and this is going to end well, it's written in the way his eyes meet Scott's and the way his mouth twitches, the fidgeting of his fingers. He's scared and I don't think he's just scared for Lydia. I think he's scared because whatever they're chasing, it's dangerous. I want to be his safety net, even if I don't get to know what from but, I don't do anything besides put on a soft smile, push away from the jeep, and walk into my house./p 


	4. part 4 The Peace And The Panic

p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a848cb166a6343dbccbd4564a0faacbc" I slide off my shoes as I make my way to the kitchen, putting my bag and camera on the couch on the way. There's left over spaghetti in the fridge. My dad made it between hospital stays so we'd have at least something here to eat. I grab a bowl and reheat some in the microwave, adding a little more sauce. Once it's done, I head to the living room and make myself comfortable on the couch. The TV plays The Lost Boys in the background./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ec23e88049ac5ac351174baa5031e582" I grab my laptop and bring Google up. I feel like I know quite a bit about technology, especially my own but I still can't figure out what's up with Scott's face and I'm downright determined. I don't feel like having that happen all the time and I need to be able to prevent it. Scott is persistently getting better every practice and people are gonna question why there aren't any pictures of his face. If there's a problem, there has to be a solution. Google tends to be a pretty reliable solution source./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c4d560f60a394bcfa21786c68b5a96b6" The first thing that comes up in Leukocoria. Apparently, it's where your eye lacks eye shine essentially. It also causes the eyes to reflect when someone's picture is taken with a flash but apparently, it's a sign of a list of medical conditions, none of which I've heard of Scott ever having. Also, most of the time, it's discovered by the time the child is three so it seems like people are born with it. I know I've seen pictures of Scott before and it's never happened. To be on the safe side though, I head over to some of my older pictures and the school's website./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="250a7a911a82ec79e0ea84075939d794" Just as I expected, Scott's eyes are just fine in my pictures. In fact, they were fine until a few weeks ago. Even in the school's student portal, where the digital yearbook is stored, Scott is fine. There's nothing new. What the hell happened in the past few weeks that's making his eyes do that? You know what? Maybe I'm losing it. Maybe it was a glitch and it's nothing. I don't know what else it would be./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e8238fd7a60042f6745ccaadd830d212" "Cam." My dad's voice comes from behind me with the closing of the door./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ce57a7a1aa1ebdb46df104d1913d1a1f" I turn and wave as he approaches the back of the couch. "No change?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4b7a1d2b02842e62e571d9075518c95c" "No." He shakes his head but doesn't linger in the thought. "Crashing a funeral? Really, Cambridge?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="27026feef63421b0c6d4b9a3d2ac562f" I widen my eyes with an 'oops; look. "Well, we didn't technically crash it and I waited in the jeep."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c9b086c9f7747d2a3b3c0b4cab1fa8ce" "When I told you to go be a kid, I didn't mean get into trouble."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="af2e7483f4db7790ca08f16da0667346" "Well, you did say that but you also know that I was just gonna go with Stiles or Scott and both of them are trouble so, really, did you expect anything else?" I wrinkle my nose with the shrug of my shoulders./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="47922ca96d3a5c3fad6651ec46aa41ac" He narrows his eyes and I know he didn't appreciate the smart remark. "Okay," he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "you know what? Just, try and stay out of trouble. At least, you're with the boys again." He sighs with defeat before he turns away./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3d32f8a0c639557e9b186a5c14988982" His sigh might have been defeated but his eyes were filled with relief. I know he worries. He worries more than anyone I think. But, I wish he wouldn't so much. It's, I get it. My mom is going to die and he knows that it's going to rip him to shreds. I know that it's going to rip him to shreds so I think he's convinced that if he's that destroyed, I'll be so much worse because it's my mom. The thing, however, is that she's been sick for six years. My mom hasn't been my mom in three. Yeah, it's going to nearly kill me and I am going to be the farthest from okay I think I'll ever be but my mom's been gone for a long time already./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="b3b74fd6332047cdc732bdbc47ab7873" At the end of the day, we're both losing someone that's really important to the both us. We just have different ways of distracting ourselves. I'm trying to make friends and continue with my routine while my dad worries about me. If he worries about me, he won't worry about Mom. I don't want my mom to die. I want her to pull through, a miracle like I said, but then again, it's time because for six years we've been living in constant dread and that chapter needs to close. I never realized just how unhealthy and depressing it was until now. I'm dreading the hour to strike but at least, once we're able to function again, we'll be able to function em style="box-sizing: border-box;"correctly/em again./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d1961732fc8260f785ec4198f9f670f3" I walk into the kitchen and my dad has his hands on the edge of the sink with his head hung./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1de4332bec2d4c86710559d7501f090e" "Dad?" I lean against the door way and wait for him to face me. His face is pale with a hint of red in his cheeks that shine with the light. "You're doing a good job." I nod and pull one corner of my mouth up to force a smile./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="62a7fa6f248c6e6e44dcbe4d7abbe1f7" He huffs and shakes his head before scratching his nose. "My kid telling me I'm doing a good job." He crosses his arms./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="bcb70b94c14a3ba104dd9a9526d63120" "Sometimes, people just need to hear they're doing a good job." He shakes his head and goes to the fridge, pulling out the leftovers. "When are we going back to the hospital?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f50c11a044511d011d7658c8d27b456b" He looks at me with absent eyes and I straighten my stance in impatience. "Going to work in an hour."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2d8eda52657e8b95853f3d4a79cdaa3e" "What?" I nearly yell as I completely push away from the wall with my shoulder./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="dd6021456a2394f956b1e73829c52b74" "They need the extra hands."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e936639d1a3303a3c2fb1149c984db84" "I think they can handle it."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="39c6b6288088255860315eadb762086a" "Oh, so if Stiles calls about the ambulance I know you know about, you're not gonna go with him?" His eyes narrow at me before going back to the food./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="26d5cb89f25bae7f68bdf5a3687fa801" "No." I shake my head and look to the floor with a low voice./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4b96385a07d0c13e311c1a931a6aece5" "I've heard that before."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="55ef5affb0714f34a1106e7ed84821b5" "When has this ever happened? When has this happened since mom got sick? If you aren't there because you decided to work in fear that I'll go searching whatever happened, you're gonna blame me for it."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="58e6b70e3738269a85713d2101a08cba" "I would never blame you for it." His face softens as his bowl enters the microwave. "I would blame myself if I didn't go tonight and you went out and got hurt. I'm-"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e20c482d17aeb155879b70f266fb8019" "The dad. Yeah, I get it. But I haven't been going out in years, why would I start now? You're acting like today was some huge deal when it-"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="6079e4d652021547e82cb7c3a1a5104e" "We are not doing this right now, Cambridge." His face contorts with anger as he takes his bowl from the microwave./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="111e9eca02d56eb561fbefac8fef469b" "I just don't understand what you're so-"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8a686fc7159abf01838849469d6a0d8c" "Cambridge Sligo!" His fist slams against the counter./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1794cf102abb96a0be7f90b7324b2d65" "What?" I yell back, not moving my stance from the doorway. "It wasn't a big deal! Sheriff wasn't even that mad!"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="bf30e9c7ac0e8f8341ce0a4ab861b00d" "That is not the point!" He points his finger at me with gritted teeth. "You had to go and get into trouble. Of all times. You're supposed to be responsible!"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="23e749a30e46fca34faedac4209fb128" "I didn't get arrested! You know, you act like I went out and literally crashed that funeral. The Argents don't even know any of us were around besides Allison!" I scream back and watch my dad's face just grow angrier. "You know, the only reason we were there is because Scott wanted to be there for Allison despite them not being together anymore? And Stiles was there for Scott and Allison? So yeah, it got us in trouble but as the em style="box-sizing: border-box;"dad/em, shouldn't you want me to have those two? But you're just yelling and I don't even know why anymore." I shake my head and take a deep breath. "I'm going on a walk. Call me when you're going to the hospital." I turn on my heels and walk to the couch, quickly shoving my things back in the bag./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a83005a178c462cb971a25b56be64959" "Cambridge." My dad's stern voice comes into the living room as I slide on my shoes. "Don't you leave this house."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8219502f6e318866e6394360103f84f0" "You're not gonna be here anyway." I shrug and walk out./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="6545d39df33f773920e12e0a3fbc859b" My dad and I get along really well usually. My mom always said I was way more like my dad than I was her. My dad, while being headstrong, is more laid back and won't really put up much fight unless really necessary. But he always wanted to know everything and anything. My mom on the other hand, she would fight you on if the sky was blue and she never needed to know anything. You could give her the most basic of answers and she'd be completely okay with it. Usually, it's the parent you're most like that you fight with but not here. My mom always thought it was because she just liked to argue and I didn't so it was easier for me to get along better with my dad. Of course, I never had a bad relationship with my mom, not like I had a lot of time to have one anyway./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d3826bc83abe89b93d8ca36589d30a9b" Today, today I think was just bad. It's the knowing the end really is near. It's almost here. It's the stress of it all. My mom, school, trying to get friendships back. My dad has work and my mom and me. It's just a lot and that's not an excuse to fight but I guess sometimes, it just happens and there's nothing anyone can do until it's said and done. That's why I left. I was always told not to leave in an argument but I'm outside, at night, alone watching the pavement beneath my feet as tears leak onto my cheeks. I guess I really don't take advice./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="dba5317f7aff5b2671cfcfee472622ec" As my feet continued to it pavement and hours passed I really came to realize just how alone I am. I'm walking the streets of Beacon Hills with my phone in my hand and earbuds in my ears but no one to call. Stiles, that boy is still probably looking into whatever happened with the ambulance. Scott is probably with him. Right now is the wrong time to even attempt to befriend Allison. It's just me and the street. It sucks./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c3fa0aa1d6f453ed68ff6a163c98a00f" The loneliness immediately disappears and is replaced with hints of fear as I notice a car next to an ally with its door open. With everything going on lately, I grab the pepper spray from the side pouch of my bag. It's easy to access. I hold it just right, with my thumb ready to spray just in case. My phone is set to call 911 just in case. I might be a little out of it, but I'm not that out of it./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2224ae6fe09ffcf626e3840e074514f6" As I approach the car, I notice something dripping from the open door. My stomach turns as I get an uneasy feeling. The poor lighting makes it hard to see but I'm gonna guess that's not good and as I get closer, the door is damaged. Like something attacked the door. This is bad, and a bad decision. My dad is gonna kill me. I peek around the destroyed door and see a mangled body. I turn away as everything I ate starts coming right back up. That's a dead body. That is a dead body. WHY IS THERE A DEAD BODY?/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5075d4816c43ae35d1cee4b965907476" I call 911 and tell them exactly where I am and what I've seen. The 911 operator was really kind but it didn't help. I mean, there's blood dripping out of this car. This guy doesn't have much skin left and his body is ripped to shreds. It's so disgusting and I, I can't just, it's horrible. Who or what would have done that? An animal, I would think, would have eaten its prey, not left it. That leaves some form of Richard Speck. I think I just scared myself even more./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2b4caf3af5eab6a820ba9dca036f0b3a" In minutes, Sheriff Stinilski comes with a few other officers right behind him and an ambulance. I stand a few yards from the car and wait for Sheriff Stilinski to talk to me./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="eaf4536e2158369e2d674c3491ba3421" "Cam, are you okay?" He asks as he reaches me./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ca9f448432a051eab9545028ddc4df37" "That is a dead, mangled body." I stare at him with terrified eyes. The image of that person is going to be ingrained in me for the rest of my life. I wish I could unsee it. It looks like something just ripped it to shreds like the person was paper./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0a7e5ed34aca23de0fe97b99270adc56" "What happened? Do you know?" I shake my head as I continue to stare him in disbelief. "Okay, we're gonna need to take you in, okay?" His eyes show more concern than my dad's did before I left./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a89c7f404b4083fddeb5c766fe2a836f" "That's a dead, mangled body." I can't even agree with him. I can't disagree. Nothing. I just can't get that image out of my head. What the hell did that?/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9cd976fe1019519be5042424040347a4" "Okay, yeah. You're in shock. Let's move you to the station." He looks from me and calls for Stevenson. "You take her to the station, get her in my office. She stays until I say otherwise." His voice is muffled as my head stays on the dead human. Nothing feels right. It's foggy. Is this what shock is?/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="aaaca55d38892ef1379745849eafbfa9" I follow Stevenson to his car. He opens the passenger door and normally I'd be relieved not to have to sit in the back but I can't help feel anything else but utter disbelief and sorrow. I wish I had never left my house. I should have listened to my dad. I shouldn't have left. Someone else could have discovered this guy. Probably one of the officers patrolling. I shouldn't have left./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="cda225ff417ae12f67beaa932adfefc2" Once we get to the station, Stevenson grabs the keys to the sheriff's office and allows me inside./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a18cae6e71a5da223b56da43c4dfdbcc" "Just holler if you need anything, alright?" He nods to me as I take a seat on the couch. I nod in response, still unable to fully find any words./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="df15693d7681157c457649d536089ffb" The couch is comfortable but not where I want to be. I want to go home. I want to be in my room with the gray walls that are covered in photo collages. I just want to be at home in bed where I should be in the first place. Why don't I ever listen? Why do I have to get myself into these situations? How do I get myself into these things? This guy, this guy had a family. He had people that cared about him and now he's dead. He was breathing one second and then ripped a part the next. What is his family going to think? His friends? His employees or employers? It's one thing to lose someone but to have someone be murdered or attacked by an animal although, I'm not sure what kind of animal would have done that. I mean, I'm telling you, it's something like the murder Jack The Ripper did when he actually had privacy n Lonon. That's damn horrifying./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="79bae9a9ebeb190c3bf20fd0fe09f84f" "Cambridge!" A voice of relief fills the small office. I look over and my dad looks like he's about to collapse by the sight of me. "Thank God." He says as he walks to me and hugs me the second I stand up. "Are you okay?" He pulls away with knitted brows and a face wrapped with concern and apathy./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="43a62981b9e794eea14f684739d3cde7" "That guy is dead and..." I shake my head as my eyes grow distant and disturbed. "I wanna go home." I meet his eyes as my eyes gloss over with exhaustion./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f6e2bae20f5b82f5dc1b778d6f173e02" "Alright, let's go. The sheriff said I can take you home and he'll question you if he needs to, okay?" He nods, not removing his hands from my shoulders./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f6cdca0e2bb91472fe097ff1ff317efc" I nod and he leads me out of the station, waving to Stevenson and thanking him for bringing me back. My dad tries to talk to me on the way back to our house but I can't listen. I just want to go home and sleep. I want to sleep for an extended period of time, try and get everything out of my head. Today was a horrible day and tomorrow is going to be worse. If I could sleep through all of it, I genuinely think I would. I don't want to do or deal with any of this. It sucks and it just feels like it's too much. It feels like the weight of the world is crushing me and I'm hoping so much that I can sleep and it'll all go away./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8dc4055f10733f1a9c2157020c390f99" Once back home, my dad has given up on talking to me. He makes sure I get to my room okay and leaves me to sleep but promises he'll be right down the hall all night until I wake up. I didn't expect anything less from him. I know I worried him when I walked out and getting a call from the sheriff about me probably just made that worse. I made him more worried and that wasn't even my intention. I just mess things up sometimes and it's all by accident. I don't try and hurt people I care about. It just happens and I don't know why. It breaks my heart./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="cfab1ba8c67c7c838db98d666f02a132"-/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="b0fbdbf3ce294a94a548eeda76c8a05c"em style="box-sizing: border-box;" It's dark and cold. A dripping sound echoes rfom behind me. I shouldn't be alone but I am. Why am I alone? I look around only to see I'm in an alley and my only company are the random rats scurrying across the ground but even they seem to disappear within seconds, as if sensing something, something bad./em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d4e79ce62045c91ba20056dc8587d25b"em style="box-sizing: border-box;" I make a quick turn behind me as I hear steps, long and fast. They echo just over the annoying dripping that had become a sign of comfort in the short time. It was better than silence./em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ad32e388ab7c775c8d52d0b2cccaaf85"em style="box-sizing: border-box;" This can't be happening. I dig at my pocket but nothing. Not even a phone. My pockets are empty, I have no hoodie, my backpack is nowhere to be seen. I need to get out of here, now. I don't know who the steps belong to but there's something in the pit of my stomach that says I need to run, run as fast as I can until my legs turn to linguini. But, I can't. There's a long, agonizing scream. My eyes water immediately./em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d054d13b47cf248fc32b2d763d840316"em style="box-sizing: border-box;" "Stiles?" I face the direction of the scream as it starts to echo and fall silent. It's in the direction of the steps. "Stiles!" I scream, hoping he can hear me and he's just fallen and hurt himself./em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="50a0c6e8757d7d1e0927bf145b444467"em style="box-sizing: border-box;" I need to go to him. I only heard one set of footsteps. They have to be his./em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ab199026b34c5799d484ed47fdfb8ab3"em style="box-sizing: border-box;" I start jogging down the long alley that's towered by brick buildings and rusty fire escapes, dripping with water. I don't remember it raining earlier? Did it rain? Why don't I remember it raining?/em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="cba3532a9d458421cef99234e8f1bef1"em style="box-sizing: border-box;" "Stiles! Can you hear me?" I scream again but receive no answer. Maybe he's just knocked himself out. It wouldn't be the first time./em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="bfd7e09e05bfaaed9910e9bd56c73a53"em style="box-sizing: border-box;" The alley just seems to be getting darker and grimier the further I walk. Why is this alley so long anyway? I look behind me; the street that's by the entrance is barely visible. This is too long. Something isn't right and yet I find myself still moving and following the slick pavement. I come to at a cross road where I can keep walking or turn left. If I turn left, I won't be able to just turn around and run if something happens. But, if I don't turn left, I may not find Stiles. If he were straight, I should have seen him, right? That's the logical explanation./em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="412fa836119df6514f816b8efa762179"em style="box-sizing: border-box;" I turn left and I keep walking, hugging myself as I grow cold and the air becomes much eerier. I'd love for Batman to swoop down right about now. I don't feel safe. In fact, I feel like someone is watching me, waiting for just the right moment to come down and attack. I know better. I was raised better and I was taught better but it's Stiles. He sounded like he was in pain. He's not answering. He has to be hurt. I'm conflicted but not even enough for my feet to lose their pace./em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="93d389494a3c9ae2e644a8dc0d656757"em style="box-sizing: border-box;" I reach a dead-end with an open dumpster. Still no Stiles. Where the hell is he? He has to be here. I know that was his scream. I know it was. I would know Stiles's scream from a hundred miles away. It's Stiles. My stomach turns and my mind races as I start to panic. I need someone to help. I can't see him and I can't hear him. I'm alone and it's wet. Please, let someone come help me. I feel tears swell up as my muscles start to tremble with fear. Tears fall as I stand in front of the slimy dumpster that seems to not have much of a scent. I want to go home./em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ce1d445d16367cd7c787ae17681c4cff"em style="box-sizing: border-box;" I need to get home. My dad is probably worried sick. He'll know how to find Stiles. He has to. I start walking but as I walk under one of the old fire escapes, something drips onto my head. I immediately put my hand to hair and remove it, looking at my pale skin. A reflex. It's a reflex to just check whatever's just landed on you. It would have to be water. But it's not. It's red and stinky. I look above me and it's Stiles, mangled just like the body in the car from earlier./em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a819d666c33b13b4c21941c590ed6fbd"em style="box-sizing: border-box;"No. No. No. No. No. This can't be happening. Not Stiles. Not Stiles. Please, not Stiles./em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3400a66b19c4e33c867278aa554b2068"-/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ef2f2ceabb3b30bcd7028b91c59ed78f" "Cambridge!" A scream and a jerk allows my eyes to shoot open with my vocal chords screeching in horror. "It's just a dream! Cam! Come on." My dad's voice is in my ear but my heart's pounding so hard, it's muffled. "It's just a dream." My dad's voice becomes clearer as my screaming stops and I feel his arms completely wrapped around me from behind. I look to him, wide eyed and jaw agape, terror in my eyes. "Just a dream, okay?" He shakes his head as reassurance and worry grace his eyes. I nod as a few tears leave my eyes and my breathing barely starts to level. "Are you okay?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e3fe3b915637685036216205cacb51af" "I need my phone." I quickly say, my eyes are still wide and my voice shaky with heavy breaths./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a222bd5aea95e1f9725f48780f11aa45" "I think you need to take some deep breaths first, alright?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="62ad7c7818c7eb00c86048b6c578f439" "No, phone." I shake my head and wiggle out from his arms, searching my blankets for my phone. Did I not plug it in? Did I leave it in my bag? Pants? Where the hell is my phone?/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="aad22039fc6c306ed5c7ca5724e3b20b" "Cam." My dad says but I ignore him and get up from the bed, now checking my pants. "Cam, listen to me." He tries again but I move right onto my bag. "Cambridge." He gets up and pulls my shoulders so I have to stop and face him. "What happened?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="51845a890f47b448f7587a6d18afe385" "I-I don't know." My eyes dart back and forth, my breathing still not being completely controlled. "I just have to make sure he's okay." My voice cracks as I move from his grasp and go back to my bag./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="98adf82937b0f9710434a8e32d180013" I notice him rub his hand over his mouth as he looks to the side of him. He's worried but I'm right in front of him. I might look like a mad woman right now but I'm in front of him. He knows I'm breathing because I'm sure my breathing is so loud our neighbors can hear me gasping for air. My heart is beating so he knows I'm alive but I don't know if it was all just a dream or if it really happened. Did I see that body? Did I see Stiles? I don't know./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1ba9378eaed58213738407304b04319a" That's the thing about nightmares. They scare you so fucking much that you're convinced they're real no matter how unrealistic they may be. I rarely have nightmares, especially when it comes to ones where I wake up screaming. I just don't have nightmares. So, normally, I would sit with my dad and tell him what I had a nightmare about and he'd tell me all the flaws as he made hot chocolate for me. And as I sipped the drink, I'd realize how idiotic it was for me to even be afraid in the first place. But that's not it this time. I know I saw at least one body. I know that happened. It's unrealistic because that doesn't happen here. Beacon Hills is safe. It's supposed to be safe here. That's why my parents moved us here. It can't happen here. Maybe it's all a dream, maybe it's all real. I don't know./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="88352cd9c6d79cee8fa84ba67199c130" "Alright." My dad sighs as I move to look under my bed. "Let's go into the kitchen and you can use my phone, okay?" He bends down and nods his head./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4f86a2ad7508dee9f9585f7a387525c7" I stop slowly and agree. He helps me up and walks me to the kitchen, my pajama pants dragging on the floor from being a little too long. My dad hands me his phone as he moves to one of the cupboards and grabs the tin of Nestle cocoa powder. I search for Stiles in his phone and immediately type out a message, saying it was me and asking if he was okay. It's late. It's after three. But I won't be able to go back to sleep until he replies which means I'll probably be awake all night./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c71235c921a3860c4539502e6c4f3f24" "You wanna tell me what you were screaming about with that nightmare? You nearly gave me a heart attack." My dad says as he starts warming the milk on the stove./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="228cf1321ecce47d43d727dbc6a183b0" "Did I really find that body?" I ask as I watch the brown powder being poured./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f12cec1a492c37c5d7190f840d6fcbbf" "Yeah." He nods but doesn't look at me./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0f1b238860a0efdc6aa7525ce46730a4" "That guy, he's really dead and...you know."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1f570fcad98547eb4a405ae197c43981" "Yeah." He nods again and starts stirring./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="65917d39211ac1380f8b1108819f6081" "Did I find anyone else?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="cffe5e146d8f009fbe64d490d47e3a90" He finally faces me, keeping the spoon moving and mixing the milk and cocoa. "Was that what your nightmare was about? You finding one of your friends like that?" His eyebrows raise and become knitted together. I don't answer. I just look at the phone in hopes Stiles's name will pop up. "They're fine, Cambridge." He shakes his head and goes back to staring at the mixture./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ffdd0034ab659e853b9bc7cac82fa31b" He walks over a few minutes later with two mugs. He hands me the Spider-man mug while he takes a Beacon Hills Police mug. "It was Stiles." I finally admit./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f0571a8770e5dcd71345a6a4dbf133e8" "I kind of figured that much." My dad takes a drink as he sits down across from me./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0e23b3aa881da8b76b5f2e822f55892e" "I found him like that guy but it was in an alley, a really weird alley. It went on for so long."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ae1360835deee007283a00ee050c0358" "That's normal, Cam. What you saw tonight, that's something no one ever wants to see or deserves to see. It's horrible and I wish I could tell you that you'll wake up one day and forget it, but you won't. You have to just live with it. But, you need to remember that you will probably never see something like again and that the people you care about, are safe. Especially when we're talking about a Stilinski." The corner of his mouth jerks into a small smirk with the mention of the last name./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1b933761c7891112c83c37472dbcc66e" "I know." I sip my drink in defeat. "It just felt so real." I lean back in my chair as I replay the dream./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="331d1d95a7d8aaecb7bb24e0b5edf840" "That's because part of that was." He takes another drink as his voice is calm and soothing. "How about, you go ahead and camp on the couch the rest of the night. When Stiles texts or calls back, I'll wake you up. You're not going to school in the morning anyway. You go and try and relax."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="172759d801b8d4d2db24a21c6f91c152" "The second you hear, you'll wake me? Promise?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="37a2dd7f22ce1b50e7f45b0ff64e2cc4" "I promise." He sticks his hand out and waits for me to place his phone in his palm./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5359e165fbb9a5bf06566425d747cd22" I rest the device face down and his hand closes around it before he sets it next to his mug./p 


End file.
